Xiiii 
 
 SsSssKsSssSsssS 
 
 M«« 
 
PRINCETON,     N.    J. 
 
 Wi<Mnte//p 
 
 Division . 
 Section  .. 
 
 Shelf. Number 
 
// 
 
 •^  .  o.     L. 
 
 cvw  s 
 
Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
 
 in  2011  with  funding  from 
 
 Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/publiclecturesdeOOuniv 
 
UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 PUBLIC  LECTURES 
 
 DELIVERED    IN    THE    CHAPEL 
 
 OF  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TIE  STATE  OF  MISSOURI, 
 COLUMBIA,  MISSOURI, 
 
 BY 
 
 MEMBERS  OF  THE  FACULTY. 
 
 1878-79. 
 
 COURSE  II.    VOLUME  I. 
 
 1879: 
 
 Slatctman  Book  and  Job  Print, 
 Columbia,  ito. 
 
Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1879,  by 
 
 D.  R.  McANALLY,  Jr., 
 
 Agent  of  the  Faculty  of  the  University  of  Missouri, 
 
 In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Believing  that  the  threefold  relation  existing  be- 
 tween  themselves,  the  students  under  their  care  and  the 
 state,  demanded  something  more  than  the  ordinary  class- 
 room work  at  their  hands,  the  members  of  the  Faculty 
 of  the  University  of  Missouri  two  years  ago  determined 
 to  prepare  a  series  of  lectures,  illustrative  of  the  special- 
 ties of  the  various  departments,  and  sufficiently  popular 
 in  character  to  be  attractive  not  only  to  the  undergrad- 
 uates, but  also  to  the  public  at  large.  The  first  course, 
 delivered  in  the  University  Chapel  during  the  winter  of 
 1877-7S,  was  pronounced  so  successful  that  the  Faculty 
 felt  encouraged  to  enter  upon  a  second,  and  this,  in  turn, 
 was  received  with  indications  of  popular  approval  so 
 flattering  in  character  that  it  was  resolved  to  publish  the 
 entire  second  series.  This  volume  is  the  result  of  that 
 determination.  The  lectures  herein  contained,  while  de- 
 signed primarily  for  the  students  of  the  University,  nev- 
 ertheless it  is  believed  do  not  lack  certain  elements 
 of  popularity  which  render  them,  at  least  in  some  de- 
 gree, adapted  to  the  wants  of  the  reading  public.  To 
 that  public  this  book  is  now  presented  with  the  hope 
 that  the  original  purpose  of  the  lectures  will  be  held  in 
 remembrance,  and  with  the  expectation  that  succeeding 
 volumes  will  prove  more  worthy  of  the  appreciation  al- 
 ready so  kindly  manifested  by  the  friends  of  the  Univer- 
 sity in  behalf  of  this  first  effort. 
 
 The  University  op  Missouri,      i 
 Columbia,  Boone  County,  Mo.,  1S79  ) 
 
TASLE    OE    CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Petroleum — Paul  Schweitzer,      -     - 5 
 
 Evolution  and  Creation — G.  C.  Swallow,        -     -          ...  65 
 
 Insect  Ways — S.  M.  Tracy,        93 
 
 Mathematics — Joseph  Ficklin, 115 
 
 Three  Pronunciations  of  Latin — M.  M.  Fisher, 147 
 
 Mosaic  Cosmogony — A.  Meyrowitz, 173 
 
 The  Legend  of  Virginia — P.  Bliss,     -     -          181 
 
 Linguistic  Curiosities — D.  R.  McAnally,       -          ....  207 
 
 Arnold  of  Rugby — Grace  C.  Bibb, 239 
 
 The  Professional  School — T.  J.  Lowry,     -           263 
 
 The  Ideal  of  Art — George  C.  Bingham, 311 
 
 Metaphysics — S.  S.  Laws, 32  s 
 
 Advantages  of  Classical  Study — A    F.  Fleet, 421 
 
 Study  of  Language — J.  S.  Black  well, 449 
 
 Art — Conrad  Diehl, * 473 
 
PETROLEUM. 
 
 By  Paul  Schweitzer,  Ph.  D.,  Professor  of  Chem- 
 istry in  the  University  of  Missouri. 
 
 Lecture  delivered  on  the  8th  of  February,  1879,  in  the  pres- 
 ence of  a  joint  committee  of  the  Legislature,  sent  to  examine  into 
 the  condition  and  wants  of  the  University,  and  written  for  publi- 
 cation about  five  months  afterward. 
 
 Ladies  and  Gentlemen:  I  consider  it  a  privi- 
 lege to  be  able  to  occupy  this  stand  to-night,  for  the  Sth 
 of  February  is  a  memorable  day  in  the  history  of  our 
 University,  of  our  town  and  of  our  state.  It  has  proba- 
 bly escaped  the  memory  of  most  of  you,  and  I  take 
 pleasure  in  reminding  you  of  it,  that  to-day  is  the  forty- 
 first  anniversary  of  the  birth  of  our  University.  On  the 
 Sth  of  February,  1839,  the  bill  "to  provide  for  the  insti- 
 tution and  support  of  the  State  University,"  drawn  up 
 and  urged  by  patriotic  and  far-seeing  citizens,  became  a 
 law  by  the  signature  of  the  Governor.  Men  in  our  own 
 midst  took  an  active  part  in  the  proceedings,  and  it  was 
 mainly  due  to  their  efforts,  aided  by  active  co-operation 
 of  large-hearted  and  generous  citizens  of  our  county  and 
 town,  that  the  University  was  located  here  and  the  law 
 carried  into  effect  without  delay. 
 
 In  how  far  the  expectations  of  the  founders  of  the 
 University,  of  the  fathers  of  many  of  you  here  assembled 
 to-night,  have  been  realized,  it  is   not  for  me   to  speak; 
 
6  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 suffice  it,  to  point  to  the  growing  interest  in  our  State 
 University,  manifested  by  press  and  pulpit,  to  the  foster- 
 ing care,  confidently  expected  at  the  hands  of  our  Leg- 
 islature, and  to  this  audience,  willing  and  anxious  to  dis- 
 cuss a  subject,  which  from  its  national  importance  as 
 well  as  from  the  dangers  to  property  and  life,  surround- 
 ing it,  claims  at  the  present  moment  the  attention  of  the 
 citizens  of  the  state,  and  especially  of  our  Legislature,  in 
 session  at  Jefferson  City,  and  contemplating,  I  am  in- 
 formed, a  change  in  the  law  relating  to  the  inspection  of 
 Petroleum. 
 
 birey?ewAL  Petroleum,  as  the  name  implies,  means 
 rock  oil,  and  is  the  oily,  more  or  less  volatile  liquid, 
 which  exudes  at  different  places  on  our  globe  from  the 
 rock  or  ground  below,  having  as  such  been  known  and 
 used  for  different  purposes  from  very  early  times.  It 
 was  known  to  the  ancient  Egyptians  and  Assyrians,  who 
 obtained  it  from  the  valley  of  the  Euphrates  and  the 
 neighborhood  of  Baku.  It  was  mentioned  2,000  years 
 ago  by  Herodotus  as  occurring  on  the  island  of  Zante, 
 and  later  by  Pliny  and  Dioscorides  tinder  the  name  of 
 Sicilian  oil  as  coming  from  Agrigentum ;  but  to  name  all 
 the  localities,  where  in  the  course  of  time  Petroleum  was 
 discovered  and  used,  would  lead  too  far,  and  I  will  mere- 
 ly state  that  the  earliest  mention  of  its  occurrence  in  our 
 own  country  was  made  in  1750  in  a  report  of  the  com- 
 mander of  Fort  Duquesne  to  General  Montcalm,  describ- 
 ing the  ceremonies  of  the  Seneca  Indians  on  Oil  Creek, 
 Pa.  Twenty  years  later  Peter  Kalm  gave  a  map  of  the 
 Pennsylvania  Oil  Springs  in  his  "Travels  in  North 
 America,"  published  in  1773,  and  in  1S19  oil  was  obtain- 
 ed by  accident, in  sinking  two  salt  wells  on  the  Musking- 
 hum  river,  Ohio,  the  same  thing  happening  in  1829  at 
 Burkesville,  Ky.;   in  1833  Prof.  Silliman  described  the 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  7 
 
 Seneca  Oil  spring(*)  of  Cuba,  Alleghany  county,  N.  Y., 
 and  Hildreth  the  salt  wells  of  the  Little  Kanawha  val- 
 ley, West  Va.,  which  yielded  in  1836  from  50  to  100 
 barrels  of  Petroleum,  which  was  collected  and  sold  as 
 medicine. 
 
 In  1840  a  spouting  well  at  Burkesville,  Ky.,  yielded 
 for  a  few  days  seventy-five  gallons  of  oil  a  minute,  but 
 soon  failed;  in  1844  Murray  mentions  it  as  occurring  at 
 Enniskillan,  Canada,  and  in  1850,  scarcely  30  years  ago, 
 the  first  illuminating  oil,  made  from  crude  Petroleum, 
 was  offered  for  sale  by  Samuel  Kier  at  Pittsburgh. 
 
 Since  then  the  number  of  localities  in  the  United 
 States,  at  which  Petroleum  is  found,  has  rapidly  increas- 
 ed, and  the  improvements  in  lamps  for  burning  it,  to- 
 gether with  the  introduction  in  1856  of  genuine  coal 
 oil(f)  for  illuminating  purposes,  made  by  Joshua  Mer- 
 rill of  Boston,  gave  an  impetus  to  the  production  and 
 manufacture  of  Petroleum  and  coal  oil,  which  in  the 
 course  of  a  few  years  not  only  completely  revolutionized 
 the  manner  of  lighting  our  houses,  but  changed  the  di- 
 rection and  thoughts  of  thousands  and  hundreds  of  thou- 
 ands  of  human  beings. 
 
 Old  trades  were  broken  up  and  new  ones  started; 
 men  grew  rich  over  night  to  get  poor  again  on  the  day 
 following;  excitement,  even  in  those  days  of  excitement 
 and  civil  war,  ran  high,  and  multitudes  of  men  changed 
 their  modes  of  life  with  their  habitations ;  and  now  after 
 these  days  of  expectation  and  excitement  have  past 
 away,  and  the  currents  of  life  and  trade  run  again  in 
 smooth  and  well  defined  channels,  what  results  are  there 
 
 (*)     The  so-called  Seneca  Oil,  used  for  medicinal  purposes  was 
 not  from  this  spring,  but  from  Oil  Creek,  Pa. 
 
 (f)     Made   by  destructive  distillation   of  bitumen,  bituminous 
 coal,  shale  or  like  material. 
 
b  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 left  to  tell  of  the  great  spasmodic  and  powerful  effort  of 
 so  many  men?  Light  has  been  brought  to  millions  of 
 people;  their  hours  of  day  have  been  lengthened;  pine 
 knots  and  tallow  dips  have  given  way  to  the  cheap  and 
 cheerful  lamp;  and  last  but  not  least,  the  old  dreary  and 
 unprofitable  winter  evenings  ot  farm  house  and  cottage 
 have  been  replaced  by  pleasant  hours  of  recreation  and 
 civilizing  influences  of  music,  improvement  and  study. 
 And  this  boon  of  cheap  and  pleasant  light  has  not  been 
 given  alone  to  our  own  countrymen,  but  its  blessings  ex- 
 tend to  the  remotest  corners  of  our  globe,  witnesses  of 
 American  enterprise  and  industry,  and  possible  perhaps 
 through  the  concurrence  of  exceedingly  fortunate  cir- 
 cumstances in  our  land. 
 
 Yet  these  changes  did  not  occur  without  convul- 
 sions. Their  beginnings  may  be  traced  to  the  28th  of 
 August,  1859,  when  Col.  G.  L.  Drake,  the  superinten- 
 dent of  the  Pennsylvania  Rock  Oil  Company,  thinking 
 to  obtain  oil  like  water  by  sinking  an  artesian  well,  car- 
 ried out  this  idea  amid  the  jeers  and  jokes  of  his  neigh- 
 bors, and  on  that  day  "struck  oil"  at  a  depth  of  71  feet, 
 and  collected  a  thousand  gallons  a  day,  which  sold  at  the 
 rate  of  sixty  cents  a  gallon  or  twenty-three  dollars  a 
 barrel. 
 
 From  that  moment  the  scene  changes  as  if  by 
 magic;  the  doubting  neighbors  are  gone;  the  sur- 
 rounding wilderness,  broken  only  by  an  occasional 
 cottage  and  cornfield,  shows  sighs  of  life;  men  of 
 business,  tramps  and  travelers  appear,  attracted  by 
 rumors  of  unheard  of  riches,  quickly,  easily  and  cer- 
 tainly acquired. 
 
 They  come  first  singly  like  the  drops  ot  a  passing 
 shower,  but  soon  swell  to  a  current  like  a  mountain 
 stream  after  a  rain,  and  at  last  pass  into  a  rushing  flood  of 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  9 
 
 humanity,  pressing-  eagerly  and  anxiously  onward  to 
 surely  expected  wealth  and  fortune.  Hillside  and  valley 
 are  stripped  of  covering;  log  house  and  shanty  grow  up 
 over  night;  hand  and  machine  are  busy  to  tap  the  earth 
 of  its  liquid  treasure.  A  forest  of  derricks  is  seen 
 where  but  yesterday  was  a  forest  of  trees;  all  is  work- 
 ing, drilling,  pumping,  collecting  and  shipping.  By  the 
 end  of  the  year  200  oil  wells  are  sunk  and  in  operation, 
 and  the  work  still  continues  and  is  to  continue  for  years 
 to  come(3).  Places  grow  up  and  disappear  like  mush- 
 rooms; the  history  of  the  world,  probably,  shows  not  an- 
 other phase  like  it;  within  the  short  space  of  three  months 
 a  place  of  two  houses  becomes  a  town  of  1,600  inhabi- 
 tants with  virtues  and  vices,  joys  and  sorrows,  piety  and 
 profanity.  And  in  less  than  a  year,  through  failure  of 
 wells,  through  fire,  death  and  removal,  all  had  disap- 
 peared so  effectually,  that  the  passing  wanderer  was 
 scarcely  able  to  point  out  in  the  desolation  and  growing 
 brush,  where  once  stood  the  town  of  Pithole. 
 
 This  was  the  time  and  these  the  symptoms  of  the  oil 
 fever,  a  repetition  of  the  gold  fewer  of  12  years  before, 
 and  in  its  results,  I  am  sure,  much  more  beneficial.  True, 
 men  got  rich  and  got  poor  again;  but  if  the  golden  cup, 
 after  the  first  taste,  slipped  from  their  grasp  and  despair 
 led  them  to  ruin,  they  were  only  a  few  in  comparison 
 with  the  rest,  and  followed  the  inexorable  law,  which 
 says  that  conscious  effort  is  required  in  retaining,  as  well 
 as  in  attaining,  what  is  desirable  in  life. 
 
 Scarcely  one  of  the  farmers  in  the  neighborhood  of 
 Oil  Creek,  who  in  the  space  of  a  few  months  became 
 possessed  of  half  a  million  or  a  million  of  dollars,  was 
 able  to  keep  it  long;  incompetence,  extravagance  and 
 carelessness  spent  the  money  as  fast  as  it  came,  and  in  a 
 few  years  the  original  owners  of  the  land  were  found  in 
 no  way  better  off,  than  they  had  been  before. 
 
10  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 The  immediate  effect  of  this  large  and  sudden  in- 
 flux of  ambitious  and  energetic  men  into  the  Pennsyl- 
 vania oil  district,  all  bent  upon  obtaining  a  large  quantity 
 of  Petroleum  was  of  course  an  overproduction  with  con- 
 sequent fall  of  prices;  and  it  is  surely  no  wonder,  when 
 we  bear  in  mind  that  most  of  the  rock  oil  obtained  pre- 
 viously had  been  used  for  medicinal  purposes  only.  In 
 1852  Coal  oil  was  made  by  Philbrick  and  Atwood  of 
 Waltham,  Mass.,  for  the  first  time  in  the  United  States 
 and  offered  for  sale  in  the  market,  (Coup  oil,  from  the 
 coup'  d'etat  of  Napoleon),  but  it  was  used  for  purposes  of 
 lubrication,  and  not  till  1856  was  an  illuminating  oil  of 
 like  nature  made  and  sold  here,  though  it  had  previous- 
 ly been  imported  and  used  to  a  limited  extent.  This  gen- 
 uine Coal  oil  differs  however  materially  from  Petroleum 
 in  having  a  greater  specific  gravity,  in  consequence  of 
 which  it  could  be  burned  with  little  or  no  alteration  in 
 the  old  fashioned  oil  lamps.  It  was  superior  as  an  illum- 
 inator and  cheapar  than  any  of  the  fatty  oils  and  explo- 
 sive mixtures  used  then,  and  the  industry  spread  until  in 
 i860  14  establishments  for  producing  Kerosene(*)  were 
 scattered  over  the  Atlantic  States  and  produced  100,- 
 000  barrels  of  it  a  year  worth  $2,142,693. 
 
 Most  of  this  remained,  however,  in  the  east,  the 
 west  and  south  using  the  old  materials  in  the  old  lamps. 
 
 In  this  condition  of  affairs  Pennsylvania  steps  sud- 
 denly in  with  250,000  barrels  of  oil,  raising  this  produc- 
 tion the  next  year  to  two  millions,  the  year  after  to  3 
 millions,  and  going  up  from  year  to  year  until  the  stu- 
 penduous  figures  of  to-day  are  reached(i).  What  wonder 
 that  the  price  of  Petroleum,  for  which  there  was  no  market 
 
 (*)     A  superior  brand  of  coal  oil,  the  name  being  derived  from 
 two  Greek  words  Ker,  the  heart,  and  Ozaina  the  odor. 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  11 
 
 because  there  was  no  use,  should  decline;  it  fell  rapidly 
 from  $20  a  barrel  in  1859  to  $9.60  in  i860,  to  $0.49  in  1861, 
 and  even  for  a  portion  of  this  and  the  following  year  to 
 $0.10  a  barrel,  in  some  instances  the  barrel  included.  It 
 was  then  that  about  5  million  barrels  cf  oil  were  allowed 
 to  run  waste  into  the  creeks  and  rivers,  which  by  getting 
 ignited  at  times,  through  carelessness  or  accident,  caused 
 conflagrations  that  threatened  the  very  existence  of  towns 
 and  villages  in  their  course,  and  destroyed  millions  and 
 millions  of  property.  But  the  industry,  so  auspiciously 
 started,  could  not  be  checked ;  it  possessed  within  itself 
 all  the  elements  of  ultimate  success.  A  cheap,  reliable  and 
 brilliant  source  of  light  was  needed  outside  of  the  larger 
 towns  all  over  the  country;  and  since  Professor  Silli- 
 man  in  1855  in  the  first  practical  report  ever  made  on 
 Petroleum,  had  clearly  pointed  out  its  advantages  and  its 
 mode  of  treatment  for  obtaining  the  best  results,  it  was 
 simply  for  American  ingenuity  to  step  in,  and  overcome 
 the  difficulties  that  might  be  in  the  way  of  its  successful 
 employment.  Lamps  for  it  had  to  be  invented,  and 
 present^  we  see  the  inventor  at  work.  The  first  patent 
 for  a  Petroleum  lamp,  so-named,  was  issued  in  1S59,  and 
 during  the  year  the  total  number  of  grants  for  patents  of 
 lamps,  burners  and  appliances  in  general  rose  to  40,  the 
 next  year  to  71,  the  next  to  53,  the  one  after  that  to  101, 
 and  so  on  regularly  up  to  the  present  time. (2) 
 
 The  difficulties  in  the  construction  of  lamps  and 
 burners  for  Petroleum,  rested  mainly  on  its  low  specific 
 gravity  and  high  percentage  of  carbon,  and  were  over- 
 come almost  at  the  outset.  Some  of  the  burners  described 
 and  patented  then  were  never  improved  upon  and  the 
 continuity  of  the  stream  of  patents  up  to  the  present 
 day,  though  demonstrating  that  the  perfect  burner  and 
 perfect  lamp  have  not  been  invented  yet,   demonstrates 
 
12  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 also  that  its  construction  must  be  attempted  upon  a  dif- 
 ferent and  novel  principle. 
 
 The  relatively  successful  solution  of  this  problem 
 had,  however,  an  immediate  and  rather  important  prac- 
 tical result:  it  killed  in  the  first  instance  at  one  blow  the 
 Whale  oil  fisheries,  which  had  flourished  so  long  on  the 
 Atlantic  coast,  New  England  alone  sending  out  annually 
 a  fleet  of  600  whaling  vessels;  and  it  stopped  in  the  second 
 instance,  the  Coal  oil  distilleries  that  had  just  started  into 
 successful  existence,  and  converted  them  into  Petroleum 
 refineries,  perpetuating  thereby  the  name  of  Kerosene, 
 by  transmitting  it  from  the  artificial  to  the  natural  pro- 
 duct. 
 
 The  price  of  oil  rose  again,  and  more  powerful  ef- 
 forts were  made  for  its  possession,  and  with  such  uccess 
 that  soon  all  means  for  storing  or  carrying  it  to  market 
 failed ;  single"  wells  spouted  at  the  rate  of  3,000  barrels  a 
 day(*)  with  no  provision  to  collect  it  or  stop  its  flow. 
 Tanks  of  novel  construction  were  used :  the  natural  basins 
 formed  by  building  dams  across  valleys,  and  conducting 
 the  oil  into  them  as  into  lakes.  Energy  and  enter- 
 prise, however,  soon  provided  suitable  vessels;  wood- 
 en and  iron  tanks,  increasing  yearly  in  size  until  at  pres- 
 ent many  of  them  have  a  capacity  of   125,000   barrels. 
 
 At  the  same  time  a  project  that  had  once  failed  was 
 taken  up  again  and  carried  into  successful  operation;  it 
 was  the  laying  of  wrought-iron  conduit  pipes  directly 
 from  the  wells  to  the  railroad  stations.  This  was  ac- 
 complished with  the  usual  energy,  connecting  f.  e.  Mil- 
 lerstown  with  Pittsburgh,  32  miles  distant,  by  means  of  a 
 three  inch  pipe,  laid  at  the  rate  of  a  mile  a  day  and  tested 
 within  the  same  time  for  a  pressure  of   1200  pounds  per 
 
 (*)     The  Phillips  and  Empire  wells,   sunk  in    1S61,  which   have 
 yielded  upward  of  a  hall'  a  million  barrels  each". 
 
TjECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  18 
 
 square  inch.  Like  a  huge  snake  it  runs  over  the  surface 
 of  the  country,  down  valleys  and  up  hills,  crossing  on  its 
 way  27  turnpikes  and  as  many  creeks  and  rivers,  one  of 
 which  and  a  railroad  track  pass  above  it;  watched  day  and 
 night  in  its  entire  length,  it  is  furnished  with  six  interme- 
 diate stations,  at  each  of  which  a  40  horse  power  steam 
 engine  raises  the  oil  to  an  elevated  tank  of  1500  barrels 
 capacity,  from  where  it  flows  by  gravity  to  the  next  sta- 
 tion. This  arrangement  is  found  necessary  to  speedy 
 transportation,  though  Millerstown  is  335  feet  higher 
 than  Pittsburgh. 
 
 The  system,  which  of  all  so  far  devised  is  the  cheap- 
 est, has  grown  to  grand  dimensions.  The  whole  Penn- 
 sylvania oil  district  is  intersected  by  a  network  of  pipes, 
 the  aggregate  length  of  which  was  3,000  miles  on  the 
 first  of  January,  1879.  They  are  under  the  control  of  15 
 companies,  who  from  time  to  time  form  pools  under  the 
 name  of  "The  United  Pipe  Lines,"  which  dissolve  again 
 as  their  interests  diverge   or  mutually  conflict(*). 
 
 (*)         [Stowell's  Petroleum  Reporter,  Dec.  16,  1878.] 
 UNITED  PIPE  LINES. 
 We  clip  the  following  in  regard  to  the  organization  and  busi- 
 ness capacity  of  the  United  Pipe  Lines,  from  their  recent  report 
 addressed  to  their  patrons  and  the  public : 
 
 ORGANIZATION. 
 
 The  United  Pipe  Line  Company  was  organized  in  1877  by  a 
 consolidation  between  the  following  companies,  viz:  The  (old) 
 United  Pipe  Lines,  the  Antwerp  and  Oil  City  Pipe  Companies, the 
 Atlantic  Pipe  Company,  the  American  Transfer  Company,  (in 
 Clarion  and  Venango  counties,)  and  the  Sandy  Pipe  Line. 
 
 These  formed  the  association  now  known  as  the  United  Pipe 
 Lines,  which  was  incorporated  in  March,  1877,  with  a  capital  of 
 three  million  dollars. 
 
 CAPACITY  OF  THE  LINES. 
 
 At  the  present  time,  October,  1S7S,  the  company  owns,  and 
 tus  in  active  operation,  over  fifteen  hundred  (1,500)  miles  of  two 
 (2)  inch  pipe,  and  three  hundred  (300)  miles  of  three  (3)  and  four 
 (4)  inch  pipe.  It  has  connected  with  these  pipes,  more  than  three 
 hundred  and  fifty  (350)  iron  tanks,  with  a  capacity  of  over  5,200,- 
 
14  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 The  business  of  these  pipes  and  transportation  lines 
 is  at  present  so  widely  extended,  that  delivery  tanks  are 
 found  in  nearly  all  eastern  refining-  centres,  and  a  pipe 
 line  certificate  for  any  number  of  barrels  of  oil  bought  at 
 Pittsburgh,  enables  the  holder  to  draw  this  quantity 
 any  where  in  the  east.  These  sales  used  to  be  effected 
 by  measure  alone,  and  resulted  in  so  much  annoy- 
 ance to  both  buyer  and  seller,  that  all  transactions  are 
 made  at  present  by  weight  alone  in  refined  as  well  as 
 in  crude  oil,  and  the  price  and  quantity  adjusted  in 
 accordance  with  certain  well-defined  rules  about  specific 
 gravity,  fire  test  and  color. 
 
 ooo  barrels  of  forty-two  (42)  gallons  each,  of  which  1,800,- 
 000  barrels  are  owned  by  the  company,  and  3, 400,000  barrels  held 
 by  them  under  contract  with  the  owners.  It  owns  over  eight  hun- 
 dred (800)  miles  of  telegraph  wire  connecting  all  its  offices  and 
 stations  with  each  other,  and  with  the  general  office  of  the  compa- 
 ny at  Oil  City,  Pennsylvania.  It  is  fully  cquiped  with  boilers, 
 pumps,  and  all  necessary  means  for  receiving  and  transporting  to 
 delivery  points,  at  least  seventy-five  thousand  (75,000)  barrels  of 
 oil  per  day.  It  has  points  of  delivery  upon  all  railroads  in  the  Oil 
 Regions,  at  which  twenty-five  hundred  (2,500)  cars,  containing  two 
 hundred  and  twenty -five  thousand  (225,000)  barrels  can  be  loaded 
 daily;  and  can  also  deliver  directly  to  refineries  at  Oil  City,  Pa. 
 
 [Stowell's  Petroleum  Reporter,  June  16,  '79.] 
 TIDE  WATER  PIPE  CO.  LIMITED  OPENED. 
 
 At  four  o'cIock  in  the  afternoon  of  May  2Sth  the  monster 
 pump  of  the  Tide  Water  Pipe  Co.  Limited  was  set  in  motion  at 
 Corryville,  and  the  first  oil  entered  the  pipe  and  started  towards 
 Williamsport,  reaching  the  latter  place  about  7:10,  p.  m.,  on  June 
 4th,  one  hundred  and  forty-seven  hours  and  ten  minutes  after 
 leaving  Corryville. 
 
 The  quantity  required  to  fill  the  pipe  was  20,000  bbls.  This  is 
 the  first  6-inch  pipe  line  of  any  considerable  length  ever  construct- 
 ed. The  line  is  100  miles  long.  There  are  but  two  pumping  stations, 
 one  at  Corryville,  and  the  other  22^4  miles  from  this  place.  The 
 highest  elevation  1,200  feet  is  reached  about  31  miles  east  of  Cor- 
 ryville, and  from  this  point  the  oil  reaches  Williamsport  bv  gravity. 
 
 The  estimated  cost  of  the  line  is  between  $700,000  and  $800,- 
 000.  The  weight  of  pipe  used  is  5,000  tons.  The  minimum  capacity 
 of  the  line  is  6,000  bbls.  daily,  which  can  be  increased  under  pres- 
 sure to  10,000  bbls. 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  15 
 
 From  the  railroad  stations  the  oil  is  carried  to  the 
 refineries,  and  there  a  difficulty  was  met,  growing  out  of 
 the  property  of  Petroleum,  of  passing  through  the  pores 
 of  the  casks  in  which  it  was  shipped;  this  caused  in  the 
 beginning  much  annoyance  and  much  loss;  shipments 
 would  be  made  to  New  York  and  Boston,  the  barrels 
 arriving  there  only  half  filled,  and  whole  cargoes  would 
 disappear  bodily  in  their  passage  across  the  ocean.  Many 
 of  you  doubtless  remember,  in  these  early  days,  the  ap- 
 pearance of  the  oil  trains,  with  their  platform  cars  freight- 
 with  barrels,  each  one  perspiring,  as  it  were,  from  every 
 pore,  and  leaving  behind  an  oily,  offensive  and  unsavory 
 trail. 
 
 But  the  inventor  stepped  in  again,  and  one  of  the 
 first  patents  taken  effected  the  cure.  It  consisted  in  cov- 
 ering the  inside  of  the  barrels  with  a  coating  of  liquid 
 glue,  forced  into  the  pores  of  the  wood  by  pressure;  the 
 outside  is  then  painted  blue,  the  heads  white  and  the 
 barrel  is  ready  to  receive  its  charge,  42  gallons,  more  or 
 less,  which  it  retains  admirably  and  for  a  long  time. 
 
 The  immediate  effect,  however,  of  the  escape  of  the 
 oil  through  the  casks,  coupled  with  the  need  of  cheaper 
 transportation,  brought  about  the  construction  of  so-call- 
 ed tank  cars,  wrought-iron  boilers  of  85  barrels  capacity, 
 on  trucks,  which  proved  so  convenient  in  every  way  that 
 scores  of  them  were  built,  2,500  being  in  use  at  present  in 
 Pennsylvania  alone,  and  probably  no  less  than  5,000  in 
 the  United  States.  At  the  same  time  tank-boats  were 
 designed,  huge  floating  reservoirs,  which  hold  3,000 
 barrels  of  oil  each,  and  distribute  its  contents  to  the  dif- 
 ferent points  on  the  river  and  on  the  Erie  canal.  A  hun- 
 dred of  them  are  in  operation  at  present  during  the 
 summer  months. 
 
16  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 ™asp™al  Having  thus  sketched  the  growth  of  the 
 Petroleum  industry,  and  followed  the  oil  in  its  course 
 from  well  to  refinery,  we  will  now  take  a  look  at  its 
 commercial  importance,  and  then  answer  the  questions 
 of  what  it  is,  why  and  how  it  is  refined,  and  what  should 
 be  the  safeguards  that  must  be  taken,  in  order  to  protect 
 its  consumers  against  danger  and  fraud?  A  look  at  the 
 tables(4-6)shows  us  that  the  Pennsylvania  district  produc- 
 ed during  the  calender  year  of  187S,  15,165,462  barrels  of 
 oil  of  the  value  at  the  wells  of  $21,689,920,  while  the  rest 
 of  the  United  States  produced  445,000  barrels  valued  at 
 $645,250,  and  that  there  were  exported  in  the  same  time 
 8,071,780  barrels  of  Petroleum  and  its  products,  repre- 
 senting a  value  of  $46,730,972.  This  export,  according 
 to  the  report  of  the  Chief  of  the  Bureau  of  Statistics, 
 places  Petroleum  the  fifth  in  the  list  of  important  com- 
 modities sent  abroad. (*)  During  the  20  years  preceding, 
 that  is  since  1S59,  there  have  been  produced  by  Pennsyl- 
 vania 111,017,862  barrels  of  oil  valued  at  $293,872,162, 
 and  by  the  rest  of  the  United  States  4,706,500  barrels 
 valued  at  $12,472,225,  while  the  total  exports  reached 
 the  equivalent  of  54,878,837  barrels  with  a  value  of 
 $488,079,842.  Truly  astonishing  figures,  which  in  con- 
 nection with  the  manufacture  and  export  of  lamps  and 
 burners  and  the  different  industries,  directly  and  indirect- 
 ly bearing  upon  the  production,  transportation  and  refin- 
 ing of  Petroleum,  indicate  the  magnitude  of  the  business, 
 and  serve  to   furnish  an   idea  of  the  greit  army   of  men 
 
 (*)     Annual  Report   of  Chief  of  the    Bureau    of  Statistics    on 
 the  Commerce  and  Navigation  of  the  United  States,  for  the  fiscal 
 year  ended  June  30,  1S7S. — Statistical  Abstract,  page  XL. 
 1    Cotton,  raw,  exported $180,031,484 
 
 2.  Wheat 96,872,016 
 
 3.  Pork,  bacon,  hams  and  lard 86,679,979 
 
 4.  Indian  Corn 48,030,358 
 
 5.  Petroleum  and  products  of 46,574,974 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  17 
 
 that  depend  upon  it  for  a  livelihood  for  themselves  and 
 for  their  families. 
 
 composition.  Petroleum  in  its  natural  condition  is  a 
 rather  complicated  liquid,  exhibiting  at  the  different 
 places  of  its  occurrence  differences  in  aspect,  gravity, 
 quality  and  composition.  While  the  petroleum  f.  e. 
 from  some  parts  of  Europe  is  light,  clear,  nearly  color- 
 less and  odorless  and  in  need  of  little  refining,  that  of 
 our  own  country  is  for  the  most  part  thick,  greenish 
 black,  strongly  odorous  and  totally  unfit  for  immediate 
 use.  Our  best  samples  are  at  the  most  translucent,  yel- 
 lowish or  brownish  red  and  exhibit  in  a  marked  degree 
 the  peculiar  phenomenon  called  fluorescence,  which  is 
 retained  by  it  even  after  refinement.  Its  specific  gravity 
 varies  from  30  to  32CB  at  Franklin,  Pa.,  to  52°B  at 
 Pomery,  Ohio.  The  differences  in  the  eastern  markets 
 are  however  only  ^6°B  to  48°B,  they  being  supplied 
 with  oil,  which  comes  from  the  distributing  tanks  of  the 
 pipe  line  companies,  and  which  is  a  pretty  thorough  and 
 uniform  mixture. 
 
 The  first  step  in  the  analysis  of  Petroleum  may  be 
 said  to  have  been  taken  by  Unverdorbcn  in  1S31,  who 
 separated  it  by  fractional  distillation  into  some  of  its  con- 
 stituents. Since  then,  many  illustrious  chemists  have 
 been  engaged  in  the  difficult  task  of  unraveling  its  com- 
 position, difficult  for  the  reason  that  Petroleum  is  not  a 
 chemical  compound,  but  a  mixture  of  a  large  number  of 
 compounds,  some  of  which  are  what  chemists  call  iso- 
 meric, that  is  they  possess  the-  same  percentage  compo- 
 sition of  their  elements,  but  different  chemical  and  phys- 
 ical properties. 
 
 Nearly  all  the  constituents  of  Petroleum  belong  to 
 that  well  defined  group  of  compounds  called  Hydrocar- 
 bon, contain  nothing  but   Carbon  and  Hydrogen   united 
 
18  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 in  different  proportions,  and  of  which  Marsh  gas  and 
 Olefiant  gas,  are  examples;  both  of  these  arc  in  fact  con- 
 stituents of  crude  Petroleum,  but  soon  escape  with  oth- 
 ers on  account  of  their  volatility ;  each  is  the  beginnino- 
 member  of  a  distinct  series  of  compounds  which  follow 
 one  another  regularly  and  lawfully  up  to  those  of  a  most 
 complicated  nature.  Fourteen  compounds  of  the  Marsh 
 gas  or  Paraffine  series  and  three  of  the  Olefiant  gas 
 series  have  so  far  been  identified  in  Petroleum,  without, 
 however,  in  the  least  exhausting  the  stock,  which  with 
 at  least  three  other  substances  of  a  different  nature  make 
 the  total  number  of  compounds  in  American  Petroleum 
 twenty(7).  It  may  be  stated  in  this  connection,  that  none 
 of  these  compounds  belong  to  groups  from  which  the 
 various  and  brilliant  aniline  or  naphthaline  dyes  are  de- 
 rived, all  statements  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding. 
 
 Bpr0vess.  You  understand,  then,  that  Petroleum  is  a 
 complicated  body;  and  it  is  owing  doubtless  to  its  com- 
 plicated nature  that  the  question  as  to  its  origin  has  not 
 yet  been  satisfactorily  settled.  We  will  discuss,  however, 
 neither  this  nor  the  other  question  intimately  connected 
 with  it,  viz :  the  manner  and  place  of  its  occurrence, 
 but  turn  our  attention  to  more  practical  questions,  bear- 
 ing upon  the  conversion  of  it  into  burning  oil  or  kero- 
 sene by  the  process  of  refining,  which  consists  not,  as 
 might  be  supposed,  in  a  separation  of  any  or  all  of  the 
 twenty  compounds  mentioned,  but  in  a  separation  of  a 
 few  products  of  commercial  importance  with  well  defin- 
 ed properties  and  with  unlimited  powers  of  application. 
 The  work  of  the  chemist  is  inventive  and  his  object 
 knowledge;  the  work  of  the  refiner  is  applicative  and 
 his  object  gain. 
 
 From  this  practical  point  of  view,  Petroleum  may 
 be  said  to  possess  properties,  many    of  which   must   be 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  19 
 
 eradicated  or  at  least  materially  changed,  before  it  will 
 answer  the  different  purposes  to  which  it  is  applied,  and 
 since  we  desire  to  confine  ourselves  to  Kerosene  oil,  we 
 will  state  here  its  requirements  in  the  order  of  their  im- 
 portance.    A  good  Kerosene  oil  should  be 
 
 i.  Safe,  that  is  to  say  not  readily  inflammable. 
 
 2.  Odorless,  that  is  to  say  not  possessing  a  disagreeable  odor. 
 
 3.  Clean,  that  is  to  say  not  creeping  over. 
 
 4.  Pure,  that  is  to  say  not  encrusting  the  wick. 
 
 5.  Light,  that  is  to  say  not  having  too  high  a  specific  gravity. 
 
 6.  Colorless. 
 
 7.  Cheap. 
 
 Safety  is  placed  at  the  head  and  cheapness  at  the 
 foot  of  the  list,  and  all  have  to  be  reached  by  the  three 
 operations  of  the  refining  process,  which  are: 
 
 1.  Fractional  distillation. 
 
 2.  Treatment  with  Chemicals. 
 
 3.  Washing  with  water  and  perhaps  another  distillation. 
 
 The  first  step,  fractional  distillation,  is  carried  on  in 
 large  stills,  in  which  the  crude  oil  is  subjected  to  gradu- 
 ally-increased direct  heat,  and  the  different  products  col- 
 lected by  suitable  arrangements  at  different  parts  of  the 
 establishment;  or  the  crude  oil  is  steamed  to  get  rid  of 
 the  more  volatile  and  inflammable  gases,  and  then  sub- 
 jected for  a  number  of  hours  to  a  uniformly  elevated 
 temperature,  which  need  not  however  approach  the  boil- 
 ing point  of  the  oil  when  the  heavier  ones  split  up,  as  it 
 were,  into  still  heavier  ones,  and  in  lighter  or  illuminat- 
 ing oils,  increasing  thereby  their  quantity,  or  lastly  the 
 two  processes  are  combined  in  various  ways  to  suit  the 
 character  of  the  crude  oil  worked,  and  the  specialty  in 
 which  one  or  the  other  refinery  may  excel. 
 
 The  percentages  of  Kerosene  obtained  by  these 
 three  modifications  A,  B  and  C  of  the  process  of  frac- 
 tional distillation  are  55  per  cent.,  66  per  cent,  and  75 
 per  cent. (8)     The  last  would  seem  to  be  the  most  advan- 
 
20  UNIVERSITY    Ob'    MISSOURI. 
 
 tageous,  but  the  quality  of  the  75  per  cent,  of  oil  obtain- 
 ed by  it  is  inferior  to  the  55  per  cent,  and  66  per  cent,  of 
 oil  obtained  by  A  and  B.  Bourgougnon,  one  of  the 
 Petroleum  inspectors  of  the  New  York  Produce  Ex- 
 change, states  the  amount  of  burning  oil  in  the  crude  oil 
 of  the  New  York  market  to  be  60  per  cent,  and  66  per 
 cent,  obtained  by  cracking,  i.  e.,  partial  destruction  of  the 
 lubricating  oil  and  paraffin  is  probably  the  highest 
 amount,  which  can  at  present  be  obtained  from  Ameri- 
 can Petroleum(9). 
 
 The  Kerosene  obtained  by  the  previous  operation 
 has  now  been  freed  from  the  light  and  heavy  portion  of 
 the  crude  oil,  both  being  objectionable,  the  former  or 
 naphtha  on  account  of  its  ready  inflammability  and  the 
 latter  or  lubricating  oil  on  account  of  the  difficulty  of 
 burning  it  in  our  ordinary  lamps.  The  first  and  fifth 
 points  in  the  list  of  requirements  have  been  covered  and 
 the  way  prepared  to  reach  the  others;  the  oil  is  still  col- 
 ored, possessed  of  an  odor,  which  if  anything  is  more 
 unpleasant  than  that  of  the  crude  oil,  and  of  ingredients, 
 which  if  not  removed  would  speedily  encrust  the  wick 
 and  weaken  its  illuminating  power.  It  is  run  into  large 
 cylindrical  tanks  of  1,800  barrels  capacity,  where  it  is 
 agitated  for  some  time  with  strong  sulphuric  acid  or  oil 
 of  vitriol  in  the  proportion  of  44  gallons  of  the  latter  to 
 100  barrels  of  the  former.  The  effect  of  this  is  to  turn 
 black  or  carbonize,  that  is  destroy  the  impurities,  which 
 impart  to  the  oil  its  odor,  color  and  other  objectionable 
 features;  these  subside  at  the  end  of  the  operation  with 
 the  oil  of  vitriol,  and  are  removed  by  a  faucet  at  the 
 bottom  of  the  agitator. 
 
 Water  and  caustic  soda  lye  are  then  added  in  proper 
 quantity  to  neutralize  the  acid,  which  may  have  remain- 
 ed suspended    in  the  oil,  after  which  the   washing  with 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  21 
 
 water  is  continued  to  remove  the  last  traces  of  saline 
 and  tarry  matter  remaining.  The  oil  is  then  ready  for 
 the  market,  either  directly,  or  after  subjecting  it  to 
 some  minor  operations,  as  exposing  it  for  some  hours  to 
 diffused  daylight  and  bleaching  it,  or  even  distilling  it 
 for  a  second  and  last  time. 
 
 protection.  It  >s  now  the  refined  or  Kerosene  oil  of 
 commerce,  and  supposing  the  operations  mentioned  to 
 have  been  performed  judiciously  and  conscientiously, 
 possessed  of  the  desired,  qualities ;  it  can  be  placed  in  the 
 hands  of  the  consumer  without  fear  and  without  risk,  a 
 messenger  of  joy  and  of  enlightenment.  But  has  this 
 been  the  experience  of  the  world,  and  our  own  expe- 
 rience? have  complaints  about  quality  or  price  of  it  never 
 reached  us?  have  accidents  from  unexpected  ignition  or 
 explosion  of  oil,  even  when  carefully  handled,  never 
 been  recorded?  Alas,  we  know  too  well  the  an- 
 swer to  these  questions,  and  though  we  will  not 
 attribute  all  accidents  to  inferior  illuminating  oils,  a 
 large  number  arc  undoubtedly  chargeable  to  them, 
 and  to  the  parties  who  placed  them  either  fraudulently 
 or  ignorantly  on  the  market;  a  long  and  melancholy 
 record  testifies  loudly  to  error  or  crime  committed. 
 Our  wives  and  children  on  whom  the  danger  from 
 inferior  oils  with  its  consequences  mainly  falls,  call 
 for  protection,  and  when  the  state  steps  in  for  the  very 
 purpose  of  affording  it,  can  political  consideration  or  sec- 
 tional feeling,  can  protective  legislation,  that  protects  the 
 few  at  the  expense  of  the  many,  or  even  ignorance  of 
 the  subject  on  the  part  of  those  who  frame  the  laws,  be 
 set  up  as  an  excuse  for  scattering  broadcast  those  messen- 
 gers of  harm,  which  by  bearing  upon  their  face  the 
 license  and  stamp  of  the  law,  lull  the  buyer  into  a  feel- 
 ing of  security,  false  and  illusory,  worse  than  the  knowl- 
 edge of  imminent  danger? 
 
22  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 These  remarks  apply  to  all  oils  sold  before  the  time 
 of  Petroleum  legislation,  and  to  the  oils  still  in  many  of 
 our  states,  in  which  legislation  has  attempted  protection, 
 or  at  least  regulation ;  it  is  a  fact  that  a  large  -propor- 
 tion of  the  oils  sold  in  our  own  state  during  the  past 
 four  years  have  been  unsafe  and  have  not  come  up  to  the 
 requirements  of  the  la%v(io).  This  has  been  brought 
 about  in  the  first  instance  by  want  of  knowledge  of  the 
 character  and  properties  of  Petroleum  on  the  part  of  leg- 
 islators, coal  oil  inspectors  and  the  public  in  general ;  and  in 
 the  second  instance,  to  say  the  least  by  too  broad  legisla- 
 tion. I  would  state  it  as  an  axiom,  which  I  challenge 
 any  one  to  contradict:  that  the  interests  of  the  refner 
 and  dealer  must  adjust  themselves  upon  the  basis  of  se- 
 curity to  the  masses,  not  this  to  interests  outside  and 
 different  from  its  own.  In  the  absence  of  strictly  scien- 
 tific tests  and  with  the  one  generally  employed  at  pres- 
 ent the  oil  should  be  made  to  appear  as  bad  as  possible, 
 and  not  as  good  as  possible,  and  in  this  light  we  will  try 
 to  determine  what  constitutes  a  safe  oil  and  the  method 
 of  ascertaining  its  safety. 
 
 An  explosion  is  a  rapid  or  practically  instantaneous 
 production  in  a  confined  space  of  a  large  volume  of  gas, 
 which  acts  on  account  of  its  elasticity  upon  its  enclosure, 
 and  forces  it  in  the  direction  of  lenst  resistance,  or 
 shatters  it  to  pieces.  Ordinarily  explosions  are  the  direct 
 result  of  chemical  action,  as  when  a  combustible  body, 
 intimately  mixed  with  Oxygen  or  a  substance  readily 
 furnishing  it,  comes  in  contact  with  a  light;  the  combus- 
 tion results  in  the  formation  of  a  large  body  of  gas  which 
 in  proportion  to  its  volume  exerts  an  explosive  force. 
 Coal  oil  or  naphtha  can,  therefore,  never  explode  by 
 themselves;  Oxygen  or  atmospheric  air  is  needed  to 
 form  with  them  a  mixture;  and  since  gases  and  fluids  do 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  23 
 
 not  mix,  it  follows  that  Coal  oil  must  first  assume  the 
 gaseous  state  or  be  volatilized  before  the  conditions  for 
 an  explosion  can  be  reached ;  in  proportion  now  as  coal 
 oil  is  ready  to  do  this  the  chances  for  the  explosion  in- 
 crease. 
 
 But  it  is  within  the  nature  of  things,  that  evapora- 
 tion increases  with  increase  of  temperature,  that  coal  oil 
 becomes  gaseous  or  yields  a  vapor  in  proportion  as  it 
 gets  warmer;  and  the  main  practical  difference  between 
 it  and  naphtha  lies  in  the  fact,  that  while  the  latter  as- 
 sumes the  gaseous  condition  and  will  take  fire  or  ex- 
 plode when  mixed  with  air  at  the  low  temperatures  of 
 our  winters,  the  former  requires  heating  to  a  variable 
 extent  to  produce  the  same  result.  It  has  been  ascer- 
 tained that  oil  after  burning  in  well  constructed  lamps 
 for  several  hours  rises  10  degrees  higher  than  the  tem- 
 perature of  the  surrounding  air,  and  since  this  is  occa- 
 sionally in  our  latitude  ioo°  Fahrenheit,  it  follows  that  the 
 oil  may  then  be  of  the  temperature  of  no0  Fahrenheit. 
 At  or  rather  below  this  temperature  no  oil  should  disen- 
 gage a  combustible  vapor  in  such  quantities  as  to  take 
 fire  on  the  approach  of  a  light,  for  should  it  do  so,  the 
 mixture  of  this  vapor  with  atmospheric  air  will  surely 
 result  in  an  explosion,  no"  Fahrenheit  should  therefore 
 bejixed  as  the  minimum  point  of  safety  for  all  burning 
 oils.  But  if  temperature  is  the  measure  of  safety  for  an 
 oil,  wrhy  not  make  it  i8o°  or  2000  Fahrenheit;  a  greater 
 degree  of  safety  would  be  reached  and  accidents  become 
 rare  or  perhaps  unknown :  simply  because  the  advan- 
 tages reached  on  the  one  hand  are  offset  by  corres- 
 ponding greater  disadvantages  on  the  other;  the  oil 
 would  become  dearer  and  be  of  much  less  illuminating 
 power  than  it  has  at  present,  for  this  dcp.mds,  all  things 
 considered,  on  its  fluidity   or  lightness,  which   is  propor- 
 
24  UNIVERSITY    OP   MISSOURI. 
 
 ttonal  to  its  safety.  A  word  may  be  said  here  in  regard 
 to  patent  preparations  and  patent  lamps  for  rendering 
 naphtha  and  unsafe  oils  safe.  All  such  contrivances  are 
 utterly  useless.  No  unsafe  oil  can  be  made  safe  by  any 
 preparation  and  will  not  be  safe  to  burn  in  any  lamp, 
 even  if  called  a  safety  lamp;  but  a  safe  oil  will  be  safe 
 always  and  in  all  lamps. 
 
 No  fear  need  be  had  that  by  making  the  law  strin- 
 gent and  protection  real,  the  price  of  oil  would  rise  to 
 any  great  extent  or  rise  at  all.  The  so-called  150  fire 
 test  oil  was  sold  during  the  past  winter  at  25  cents  a  gal- 
 lon, and  so  was  the  no  fire  test  oil,  kept  by  unscrupu- 
 lous dealers  in  contravention  of  the  spirit  if  not  of  the 
 letter  of  the  law.  Pratt's  Astral  oil,  a  superior  brand  of 
 Kerosene  manufactured  in  New  York,  could  be  had  at 
 the  same  time  at  18  cents  a  gallon,  wholesale,  and  was 
 quoted  in  the  markets  3  to  3  cents  higher  than  150  and 
 8  to  9  cents  higher  than  no  fire  test  oil;  these  latter 
 brands  sold,  therefore,  at  16  and  10  cents  a  gallon  re- 
 spectively, making  with  an  addition  of  31^  cents  a  gallon 
 freight  from  New  York  to  St.  Louis,  their  prices  in  the 
 latter  city  191^  and  1314  cents  (n). 
 
 The  difference  between  19^  and  25  or  53^  cents 
 represents  the  legitimate  profit  on  each  gallon  of  150 
 fire  test  oil,  to  be  divided  between  wholesale  and  retail 
 dealer;  if  the  latter  now  sells  no  fire  test  oil  at  the  price 
 of  the  former,  he  charges  6  cents  a  gallon  additional,  to 
 which  he  has  no  right — a  fraud  which  he  is  enabled  to 
 perpetrate  solely  in  consequence  of  a  miserable  law, 
 already  two  years  in  existence,  aided  in  it  by  the  ignor- 
 ance of  the  buyer,  who  fails  to  appreciate  the  difference 
 between  a  superior  and  an  inferior  oil.  What  amount 
 this  seemingly  little  sum  of  6  cents  a  gallon  grows  up  to 
 in  the  course  of  a  year  is   realized  by   bearing  in   mind 
 
LECTURE  OP  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  25 
 
 that  our  state  consumes  4,200,000  gallons  ot  oil,  on 
 which  we  are  thus  unrighteously  taxed  252,000  dollars. 
 The  objection  that  this  estimate  is  too  high  since  150  fire 
 test  oil  is  sold  in  our  state,  can  hardly  be  considered  valid, 
 for  out  of  thirteen  samples  sold  at  Columbia  one  only 
 was  marked  1500  fire  test,  and  even  this  fell  36  degrees 
 short,  and  Columbia  is  perhaps  no  worse  off  in  this  re- 
 spect than  other  parts  of  the  State. 
 
 "t™??nqP  If  we  adopt  then  1  io°  Fahrenheit  as  the 
 lowest  temperature  at  which  an  oil  may  be  permitted  to 
 emit  an  inflammable  vapor,  how  shall  we  go  about  to 
 ascertain  the  fact?  Numerous  methods  have  been  pro- 
 posed to  this  end,  but  without  entering  into  a  discussion 
 of  them  or  their  principles,  I  will  merely  state,  that  the 
 one  universally  adopted,  at  present,  is  based  on  an  exper- 
 ment  in  which  a  direct  observation  is  taken  of  the  flash- 
 ing point.  A  few  ounces  of  oil  are  gradually  heated  in 
 a  simply  constructed  apparatus,  and  the  temperature  ob- 
 served at  whieh  vapor  is  given  off  from  its  surface  in 
 sufficient  quantity  to  produce,  on  the  approach  of  a  light- 
 ed taper  or  gas  jet,  a  flash  or  flicker  of  light. 
 
 The  experiments  to  give  uniform  results,  should  of 
 course  be  made  in  a  uniform  manner;  and  the  law 
 should  describe  the  manner  in  detail  for  the  guidance  of 
 inspectors,  so  as  to  prevent  all  ambiguity  in  its  execution; 
 a  failure  in  this,  as  experience  has  proven,  makes  the  law 
 useless  and  the  officers  acting  under  it  liable  to  the 
 charges  of  grave  irregularities.  In  making  a  test,  f. 
 e.,  with  a  few  ounces  of  oil  within  10  or  15  minutes,  the 
 lighter  portions  will  be  given  off  within  that  time,  and 
 produce  a  flash  say  at  900  Fahrenheit;  in  repeating  the 
 experiment  now,  but  with  this  difference,  that  the  oil 
 is  heated  so  gradually  that  45  minutes  are  required  to 
 bring  it  to  the  same  temperature  as  before,  the  lighter 
 
26  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 portions  are  given  off  much  slower,  and  may  not  pro- 
 duce a  flash  at  all.  The  test  should  likewise  be  termed 
 the  flashing  test  and  the  temperature  at  which  it  occurs 
 the  flashing  point,  and  the  old  term  Jire  test,  still  used 
 in  some  of  the  states,  avoided;  for  fire  test  may  mean 
 either  the  flashing  test,  already  described,  or  the  con- 
 tinuation of  the  test  until  the  oil  itself  takes  fire  and  con- 
 tinues to  burn,  known  as  the  bur?zing  test y  and  in  the 
 absence  of  a  clear  statement  by  law,  the  choice  between 
 the  two  meanings  is  left  to  the  discretion  of  the  inspec- 
 tors. There  is  no  necessary  connection  between  the  two 
 tests,  whatever.  The  burning  test  may  be  high  and  the 
 flashing  test  low;  but  if  the  flashing  test  is  high  the 
 burning  test  must  of  necessity  be  high  also.  A  glance  at 
 the  table  (12)  exhibits  sufficiently  the  judgment  of  other 
 states  in  this  matter,  and  I  leave  it  to  this  audience  to 
 decide  whether  the  intelligence  that  framed  the  laws 
 of  England,  Indiana,  Ohio,  Michigan,  Massachusetts, 
 Rhode  Island  and  New  York,  is  offset  by  the  intelli- 
 gence of  Vermont,  Pennsylvania,  Maryland,  Illinois, 
 Georgia,  Maine  and  Missouri. 
 
 But  I  feel  I  have  kept  you  already  too  long  and 
 must  hasten  to  a  conclusion.  I  am  aware  that  I  have 
 omitted  from  this  discussion  many  points  that  deserved 
 mention,  and  treated  others,  perhaps,  less  fully  than 
 was  expected.  If  I  have  erred  in  this  direction  I  beg 
 your  indulgence;  my  purpose  was  to  entertain  you  and 
 to  convince  you  of  the  need  of  speedy  and  better  legis- 
 tion  looking  to  the  protection  of  Coal  oil  consumers  in 
 more  than  one  direction;  if  I  have  succeeded  in  this  my 
 purpose  has  been  accomplished.  Should  any  one  of  you 
 desire  to  know  more  of  the  details  of  the  subject,  I  am 
 ready  cheerfully  to  furnish  them  as  far  as  they  are  in  my 
 possession,  and  this  I  would  specially  wish  of  the   mem- 
 
LECTURE   OF   PROF.   SCHWEITZER.  27 
 
 bers  of  the  legislature  that  may  be  present,  to  whom  I 
 now  take  the  liberty  of  presenting  a  dratt  of  a  bill 
 which  may  serve  as  a  guide  in  framing  a  new  Coal 
 oil  law,  worthy  to  represent  Missouri  in  the  sister- 
 hood of  states,  and  which  I  hope  and  trust  will  be  en- 
 acted and  given  us  by  the  legislature  during  the  present 
 session(i3). 
 
UXnVEBSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 DIAGRAM,    TABLES     AND     STATEMENTS. 
 
 The  reference  to  Table  No.  i  in  the  test  is  misplaced  and 
 should  have  been  given  seven  lines  above  at  the  end  of  the  para- 
 graph. 
 
LECTURE   OF   PROF.   SCHWEITZER. 
 
 Graphic  Exhibition  of  some  of  the  tahles. 
 
 29 
 
 GaL 
 
 "iCurve  of  Produyl.io..,uf,N»rlh  Amenai-g    |~  ri~|   V  f  |     |     ! 
 
 O 
 
 m 
 
30  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 *       3  cj  3d        pc!  c:       d        d 
 
 Cfl  CO 
 
 3    M  fa 
 
 3   SI  ^ 
 
 n>  ST  M 
 
 <T>           to           00  O                     *■£>    O               00-f>                 lJ    t>            ^             |                          '        ■  £J 
 
 £L ^   —         —         —                — —  n 
 
 S                                                                 H                                     H?  f- 
 
 o-                                                                    s                                       c,    n  <*>  H 
 
 r+                             ^                                    r!                                      a  ►A  ST  >» 
 
 s  3  3  fa 
 
 w.     m  h 
 
 *       ^3  >. 
 
 «  ?  3'  a  « 
 
 h4  „      w    -  Pa  Zi 
 
 3-'>Oqpy-ft±     fa     H-^     ^Ln     Dso     -     P  -3   n.  »  S 
 
 o  -p*    3     : . .  T"    sn  J-"   3  vo         "  '^  cl  _ 
 
 fa  * 
 
 fa  W 
 
LECTURE   OF   PROF.    SCWEITZER. 
 
 31 
 
 2.  NUMBER   OF  PATENTS 
 
 issued  in  the  United  States  on  oil  burners,  vapor  burners  and  ap- 
 pliances to  lamps  in  general,  growing  out  of  the  introduction  and 
 general  use  of  Petroleum  and  its  products,  collated  from  the  Re- 
 ports of  the  U.  S.  Patent  Office(*). 
 
 sro 
 3  ^ 
 
 p  < 
 
 ~  p 
 
 0 
 
 Value  of  lamps 
 and  burners  ex- 
 
 * cr 
 
 "S  2 
 
 p 
 
 p 
 
 ported. 
 
 YEARS. 
 
 c 
 
 ;  c 
 
 n 
 
 n 
 en 
 
 : 
 
 In  t  r  oduced 
 here  for  want 
 
 £ 
 
 '■    5 
 
 of   a   better 
 
 a. 
 
 •  a. 
 
 placed). 
 
 1859(f)  -    -    -    - 
 
 23 
 
 12 
 
 5 
 
 40 
 
 1S60 
 
 3i 
 
 32 
 
 8 
 
 7i 
 
 1861    .... 
 
 40 
 
 5 
 
 S 
 
 53 
 
 1862 
 
 77 
 
 3 
 
 2  i 
 
 101 
 
 1S63    .... 
 
 59 
 
 •7 
 
 88 
 
 1S64 
 
 7i 
 
 4 
 
 11 
 
 86 
 
 1S65    .... 
 
 33 
 
 3 
 
 J7 
 
 ^ 
 
 1866 
 
 84 
 
 / 
 
 M 
 
 i35 
 
 1S67    .... 
 
 5- 
 
 ;  1 
 
 ir 
 
 103 
 
 1868 
 
 106 
 
 2  5 
 
 5  5 
 
 1 86 
 
 $  65,772 
 
 1S69    .... 
 
 59 
 
 2  5 
 
 5? 
 
 r35 
 
 167,883 
 
 1870  ----- 
 
 57 
 
 39 
 
 56 
 
 15- 
 
 168,008 
 
 1871    ...    - 
 
 65 
 
 20 
 
 / 
 
 131 
 
 160,19s 
 
 1872 
 
 63 
 
 11 
 
 56 
 
 no 
 
 232,055 
 
 1873    ...    - 
 
 49 
 
 7 
 
 34 
 
 90 
 
 287,215 
 
 1874 
 
 36 
 
 3 
 
 5  2 
 
 9i 
 
 168,231 
 
 1875    -    -    -    - 
 
 83 
 
 — 
 
 7 1 
 
 154 
 
 207,721 
 
 1876 
 
 79 
 
 — 
 
 SS 
 
 167 
 
 188,838 
 
 1877    .... 
 
 78 
 
 22 
 
 79 
 
 179 
 
 243,373 
 
 1878  ----- 
 
 24 
 
 4 
 
 56 
 
 S4 
 
 245-377 
 
 (*)  From  this  list  are  excluded  all  patents  relating  to  lanterns, 
 signal  lights  and  burners  and  lamps  based  on  illuminating  material 
 other  than  Petroleum  or  its  products. 
 
 (+)  In  this  year  the  first  patent  was  issued  in  which  the  word 
 Petroleum  occurs. 
 
 (J)  An  estimation  of  the  capital  invested  in  the  manufacture  of 
 lamps,  I  was  unable  to  obtain . 
 
32 
 
 UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 3.    STATISTICAL    TABLES      OF    PENNSYLVANIA    OIL 
 
 WELLS(*). 
 
 5'< 
 
 ~£ 
 
 0  3 
 
 5  H 
 
 3"S5 
 
 &y  *  > 
 
 <— (  S 
 S:  en 
 3  01 
 
 ^  - 
 
 p  *• 
 
 0 
 
 3  "" 
 T3  3 
 
 ?3 
 
 A   3 
 
 n   < 
 
 9?  -1 
 
 c  c 
 
 "i  •< 
 
 fj  3 
 
 c-  C 
 
 '<  ""• 
 
 3  rt 
 
 P  3 
 
 0 
 
 "t  3 
 
 O  3 
 
 Q  — 
 
 0  " 
 
 YEARS. 
 
 a 
 
 •  3' 
 :  ^ 
 
 "  3" 
 
 •  ^ 
 
 3" 
 
 •  crq 
 ■  0 
 
 :  3 
 
 !  P 
 
 n  fD 
 ■  •t 
 
 '   O 
 
 P  ID 
 3  ". 
 
 Et  re 
 
 3  y, 
 
 O  3" 
 
 p 
 
 M  C 
 
 P  P' 
 
 §  & 
 
 5'  S 
 
 p  3* 
 
 2  0 
 
 Cl.  -», 
 
 5" 
 
 CO  p- 
 
 *— •  3" 
 g  S 
 
 3  ft 
 
 3  ot 
 
 P  " 
 
 3*0 
 
 '-<  Dj 
 
 fD  3 
 P  O 
 
 "t  c-t- 
 
 »  2* 
 
 3  3 
 
 3-  ». 
 
 .  ft 
 
 •   3 
 
 c 
 
 ;  ex. 
 
 a 
 
 2  £ 
 
 3' 3 
 
 •  ^ 
 
 •  P 
 
 n. 
 
 0 
 
 5  w 
 
 0 
 
 ap  a- 
 
 ;  p 
 
 •  t-i 
 
 '  c 
 
 3 
 
 •2  ST 
 
 •  0. 
 
 ._ ,cr 
 
 ~t 
 
 I  CD 
 
 a 
 
 ^  3- 
 
 •   3 
 
 ■j>  ST 
 
 ■   0 
 
 M 
 
 ^ 
 
 *~h 
 
 >-  a 
 
 ■      -t 
 
 3  " 
 
 •  3 
 
 w 
 
 •  r. 
 
 •  T3 
 
 ;  a 
 
 ;  O 
 
 •  ha 
 
 r1 
 
 1  -1 
 
 '.    CfQ 
 
 !"*  m 
 
 i860  - 
 
 203 
 
 IO 
 
 1861 
 
 200 
 
 406 
 
 403 
 
 1206 
 
 1862  - 
 
 200 
 
 609 
 
 606 
 
 3470 
 
 1863    - 
 
 35" 
 
 S12 
 
 959 
 
 47 
 
 47 
 
 5-79 
 
 3/64 
 
 1864  - 
 
 500 
 
 1 01  5 
 
 1459 
 
 444 
 
 397 
 
 39-" 
 
 2573 
 
 186^ 
 
 950 
 
 1218 
 
 2409 
 
 1191 
 
 747 
 
 6i-33 
 
 1737 
 
 1866  - 
 
 900 
 
 1 42 1 
 
 3309 
 
 iSSS 
 
 697 
 
 49.05 
 
 1758 
 
 1867 
 
 800 
 
 1624 
 
 4109 
 
 -485 
 
 597 
 
 36.76 
 
 2215 
 
 1868  - 
 
 Soo 
 
 1S27 
 
 4909 
 
 3082 
 
 597 
 
 32.68 
 
 1S32 
 
 1869 
 
 860 
 
 2030 
 
 5769 
 
 3739 
 
 657 
 
 32-36 
 
 1796 
 
 1870  - 
 
 991 
 
 2233 
 
 6760 
 
 45-7 
 
 7S8 
 
 35-29 
 
 18S7 
 
 1871 
 
 1007 
 
 2436 
 
 7/67 
 
 533i 
 
 S04 
 
 33  00 
 
 2159 
 
 1872  - 
 
 946 
 
 2639 
 
 8713 
 
 6074 
 
 743 
 
 28.15 
 
 1972 
 
 1873    - 
 
 1032 
 
 2S42 
 
 9745 
 
 6903 
 
 S29 
 
 29.17 
 
 2090 
 
 1874  "    " 
 
 53° 
 
 304.S 
 
 10275 
 
 7230 
 
 327 
 
 10.74 
 
 3248 
 
 1875 
 
 433 
 
 3240 
 
 10708 
 
 74  6S 
 
 23S 
 
 7-34 
 
 33SO 
 
 1876  - 
 
 600 
 
 3t74 
 
 1130S 
 
 8i34 
 
 666 
 
 20.98 
 
 2769 
 
 1877 
 
 t536 
 
 536 
 
 536 
 
 None. 
 
 2290 
 
 6000 
 
 13598 
 
 7598 
 
 (t) 
 
 0.00 
 
 1495 
 
 187S  - 
 
 536 
 
 536 
 
 ti 
 
 3839 
 
 845S 
 
 17432 
 
 S979 
 
 1 381 
 
 16.33 
 
 1553 
 
 1879 
 
 536 
 
 536 
 
 <( 
 
 2975 
 
 J°337 
 
 20412 
 
 i 
 
 0075 
 
 1096 
 
 10.60 
 
 1467 
 
 20739  55569 
 536     536 
 
 20203    55033  This  divided  by  20412  gives 
 
 203 the  average  productive  time 
 
 6  of  a  well  during  the  whole 
 
 period  as  2.68  vears. 
 
 20412 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER. 
 
 38 
 
 (*)  The  figures  in  the  first  and  second  column  up  to  1874  are 
 taken  from  Special  Report  on  the  Petroleum  of  Pennsylvania  by 
 Henrv  E.  Wrigley :  Second  Geological  Report  of  Pennsylvania, 
 1874;  the  other  figures  in  the  same  columns  have  been  furnished 
 by  Mr.  S.  H.  Stowell;  the  rest  were  calculated,  as  will  easily  be 
 understood.  The  percentages  of  failures  were  derived  from  second 
 and  fifth  columns;  I  call  attention  to  the  discrepencies  of  figures 
 in  second  and  third  columns  for  1861  and  1862,  the  differences  of 
 the  two  furnishing  the  number  six  added  to  the  sum  at  the  bottom 
 of  first  column. 
 
 ({-)     536  old  wells  reopened  by  blasting. 
 
 (f)     No  well  failed  in  this  year.     Are  the  figures  correct? 
 
 4.    TABLE  SHOWING  THE  AVERAGE  YEARLY  PRICE  PER 
 
 barrel  of  Crude  Oil  at  the  wells  and  of  Crude  and  Refined  Oil  at 
 the  ports  of  export. 
 
 K! 
 
 Price  per  barrel 
 
 K} 
 
 Price  per  barrel 
 
 S3 
 
 atwells.l     in  export. 
 
 ft) 
 
 at  wells,  j     in  export.     |    (■{•) 
 
 ■"» 
 
 Crude  1  Crude  1  Refined. 
 
 T 
 
 Crude 
 
 .ICrude.lRefined.l 
 
 1859 
 
 $20.00 
 
 1869 
 
 $5.48 
 
 $10. 12 
 
 $13  73 
 
 $3.61 
 
 i860 
 
 9.60 
 
 1870 
 
 3 
 
 74 
 
 8 
 
 69 
 
 12 
 
 Sr 
 
 4. 12 
 
 1 861 
 
 0.49 
 
 1871 
 
 4 
 
 50 
 
 8 
 
 40 
 
 IO 
 
 79 
 
 2-39 
 
 1862 
 
 1. 05 
 
 $11 .09 
 
 1872 
 
 3 
 
 84 
 
 7 
 
 H 
 
 IO 
 
 46 
 
 3-32 
 
 1863I      3.15 
 
 7 
 
 S2 
 
 1873 
 
 1 
 
 84 
 
 6 
 
 8s 
 
 9 
 
 87 
 
 3.02 
 
 1864       7.62 
 
 16 
 
 2  5 
 
 $22     ->2 
 
 $5-97 
 
 1874 
 
 1 
 
 -<) 
 
 4 
 
 96 
 
 7 
 
 27 
 
 2.31 
 
 i86d     6.1S 
 
 23 
 
 48 
 
 3* 
 
 25 
 
 7-77 
 
 1S75 
 
 1 
 
 »a 
 
 4 
 
 03 
 
 S 
 
 92 
 
 i.8q 
 
 1866      3.78 
 
 15 
 
 7^ 
 
 24 
 
 23 
 
 8.48 
 
 1876 
 
 2 
 
 73 
 
 4 
 
 54 
 
 5 
 
 88 
 
 2.98 
 
 1867       2.54 
 
 10 
 
 07 
 
 15 
 
 08 
 
 4.41 
 
 1877 
 
 2 
 
 4S 
 
 5 
 
 88 
 
 8 
 
 86 
 
 i868|      3. ot; 
 
 6 
 
 47 
 
 12 
 
 35 
 
 5.88 
 
 1878 
 
 1 
 
 37 
 
 4 
 
 20 
 
 6 
 
 OS 
 
 .  1-85 
 
 (f)  Difference  between  the  two  preceding  columns,  represent- 
 ing cost  of  refining.  The  irregularities  in  the  prices  are  very 
 likely  the  result  of  speculation. 
 
 5.     PRODUCTION  OF  CRUDE  PETROLEUM  IN  THE  UNITED 
 STATES  AND  CANADA  FROM  1359  TO  ]87S  INCLUSIVE. 
 Pittsburgh,  Pa.,  June  4th,  1S79. 
 P.    Schxueitzer,   Esq.,    State    University   of  Missouri ' 
 Columbia,  Mo. : 
 
 Dear  Sir:  Your  favor  of  the  26th  ult.  was  duly  received 
 and  its  contents  noted.  Enclosed  herewith  I  hand  you  a  detailed 
 statement  of  Petroleum  production  in  the  United   States  and  Can- 
 
34 
 
 UNIVERSITY    OP    MISSOURI. 
 
 ad  a  from  1859  to  1S78  inclusive,  made  up  from  data  which   T  have 
 been  able  to  collect  for  the  last  7  years. 
 
 The  early  years  of  Petroleum  production  were  without  system 
 and  without  a  market,  consequently  there  was  no  regular  account 
 kept  of  the  production  and  cannot  be  given  by  any  person  except 
 as  an  approximation ;  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  production  ac- 
 count outside  of  the  Pennsylvania  oil  fields.  Since  any  record  has 
 been  preserved  I  have  in  my  office  quite  a  complete  chain.  So  I 
 present  results  therefrom  having  confidence  in  their  general  cor- 
 rectness. Since  I  have  been  publishing  the  "Reporter"  I  have 
 had  every  facility  for  making  accurate  reports  and  have  the  data 
 on  file  in  my  office  to  verify  all  figures  contained  in  the  reports. 
 Respectfully,  S.  11.  Stowell, 
 
 Editor  "Stowell's  Petroleum  Reporter." 
 These  figures  refer  to  calendar  years  beginning  with  the  first 
 of  Januarv,  while  those  given  by  the  Chief  of  the  Bureau  of  Statis- 
 tics refer  to  fiscal  years  beginning  with  July  1  and  ending  June  30. 
 In  constructing  the  curve  of  production  for  the  rest  of  the  United 
 States  excepting  Pennsylvania,  the  totals  given  in  the  different 
 columns  up  to  1S75  and  '76  were  distributed  evenly  over  the  pre- 
 ceding sixteen  and  seventeen  years;  but  the  production  of  Cana- 
 da up  to  the  year  1S62  was  added  during  that  year.  It  was  intend- 
 ed to  present  merely  the  difference  between  this  curve  and  that  of 
 Pennsylvania. 
 
 RECAPITULATION. 
 Penn.  Total  production.  .111,007,862  bbls.         Value.  .  $293,872,162 
 W.  Va.    "  "  .  .     3,542,000     " 
 
 Ohio         "  "  411,500     •' 
 
 Ky.  &  Tenn.        "  .  .         398,000     " 
 
 California  "  .  .         355,000     " 
 
 (*)  " 
 
 12,472,225 
 
 Total  production  in  U.  S.  115,714,362 
 Canada  total  production.  .     3,596,945 
 
 Total .  .  $306,344,387 
 (*)     Value       9,531,904 
 
 Total  in  U.S.&  Canada.  .119,311,307 
 
 Total.  .$315,876,291 
 
 (*)     These  figures  were  obtained  by  taking     £2.65   as   the  price 
 per  barrel  of  oil. 
 
IjKCTURE    OF    PROF.    SCWEITZER. 
 
 36 
 
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36 
 
 UNIVERSITY    OF    ailSSOUKI 
 
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 j    Mineral 
 
 YEARS.                                     Oil. 
 
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LECTURE    OF    PHOF.    SCHWEITZER. 
 
 37 
 
 8 
 
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38 
 
 UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 (These  notes  refer  to  the  tables  on  the  two  preceding  pages.) 
 i.     Compiled  from  the    "Annual  Report   of  the   Chief  of  the 
 
 Bureau  of  Statistics  on    Commerce   and  Navigation. — Domestic 
 
 Products." 
 
 2.  Petroleum,  crude  and  refined :  This  statement  was  not  fully 
 reported  in  the  Collector's  returns,  Petroleum  not  then  being 
 among  enumerated  articles. — "Report."' 
 
 3.  The  quantities  and  values  of  Petroleum  exported  were  not 
 reported  in  the  Schedules  of  enumerated  articles.  The  quantities 
 and  values  here  entered  are  derived  from  special  enquiries  and 
 are  below  rather  than  above  the  actual  exports.— "Report." 
 
 4.  The  figures  of  this  column  to  1S71  inclusive  and  the  figures 
 marked  4  for  187S  give  gallons  of  solid  Paraffin  taken  to  weigh 
 seven  pounds  each. 
 
 5.  The  figures  of  this  column  up  to  1871  inclusive  comprise  a 
 portion  of  Coal  Oil  reported  by  the  Collector  as  follows: 
 
 1864. 
 186  v 
 1866. 
 1867. 
 1 868. 
 1869. 
 1870. 
 1871. 
 
 1,144,769  gallons. I  $676,444 
 
 1,019,251 
 746,044 
 561,096 
 
 687>574 
 954»529 
 4418:248 
 
 398,22. 
 
 821,088 
 
 456,955 
 242,283 
 225,727 
 339.5" 
 177^37 
 151,044 
 
 59.0  cents  pei 
 
 80. 5  " 
 61.2  " 
 +3-2  " 
 32.8  " 
 
 35.6  " 
 39-5  " 
 37-9  " 
 
 gallon. 
 
 6.  This  figure  includes  coal  oil  521,053  gallons  worth  $187,866 
 or  36.1  cents  per  gallon. 
 
 7.  The  figures  in  this  column  are  given  in  the  schedules 
 to  1869  inclusive  as  Benzine;  in  1870  Benzine  and  Naphtha 
 are  given  separately,  and  in  187 1  and  following  the}-  include  Gas- 
 oline, Naphtha  and  Benzine. 
 
 8.  The  figures  in  this  column  indicate  Residuum,  Tar,  Pitch, 
 etc.;  they  are  given  in  the  "Reports"  in  barrels,  which  I  changed 
 into  gallons  by  assuming  the  barrels  to  hold  42  gallons,  and  mak- 
 ing the  multiplication. 
 
 8a.  Is  the  value  of  Residuum,  Tar,  Pitch,  etc.,  the  quantity  of 
 which  is  not  stated. 
 
 9.  These  figures  « ere  obtained  by  dividing  the  number  of 
 gallon  3  bv  4.2. 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER. 
 
 39 
 
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 C\^r  K>  00  0  0\^o  Cno, 
 
 ^^^-•--    iPPil      S^^ 
 COCO 
 
 n»5 
 
40 
 
 UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 IMPURITIES    NOT    YET    ISOLATED. 
 
 3.     Those  possessing  in  their  composition  Sulphur. 
 
 2.  Those  which  give  rise  to  the  color  of  Petroleum. 
 
 3.  Those  possessing  the  disagreeable  and  specific  ordor  of 
 American  Petroleum. 
 
 In  this  list  Thallen,  discovered  by  Prof.  Morton  is  not  men- 
 tioned, because  it  is  probably  only  an  educt  of  the  distillation  of 
 Petroleum  at  high  temperatures  and  not  a  product  occurring  in  it 
 naturally,  and  further  because  L.  Prunier  and  R.  David,  Comptes 
 rendu6  87,  pgs.  991-93,  state  that  Petrocen,  Carbocen,  Carbopetro- 
 cen  and  Thallen  are  only  mixtures  with  from  88  to  96  per  cent,  of 
 Carbon. 
 
 8.    PRODUCTS  OF  FRACTIONAL  DISTILLATION. 
 
 A(*) 
 
 B(*) 
 
 C(t) 
 
 Gasolene 
 
 1.5  per  cent.  1 
 
 3.0  pe 
 
 Naphtha 
 
 10.0         "         > 
 
 20.0  per  cent. 
 
 1 0.0 
 
 Benzine 
 
 4.0         "        J 
 
 3-o 
 
 Kerosene    - 
 
 55-o 
 
 66.0 
 
 75-o 
 
 Lubricating  oil  -   - 
 
 i7-5 
 
 Paraffin 
 
 2.0        " 
 
 Loss,  Gas,  Coke  - 
 
 10.0        " 
 
 14.0         " 
 
 9.0 
 
 |IOO.O 
 
 1 1 00.0 
 
 (*)  These  three  tables  are  taken  from  C.  F.  Chandler's  "Re- 
 port on  Petroleum,"  1871. 
 
 (f)  This  table  is  taken  from  H.  B.  Cornwall,  "Petroleum,* 
 1876. 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF,  SCHWEITZER. 
 
 41 
 
 to        i_o  Oo         0\  Cv        (J\  Q\ 
 
 <-ri   rt  CO  CO  „.  O    O    ,,'Jitr 
 
 °o     °    °  O     °    °  O     °    ° 
 
 W      tdW      WW      WW 
 
 CO  CO        [-D  *0  >i    >~  « 
 
 c-f    O     O     rt-"-"  <-n  „    O     O  ,-f    M 
 
 o     °    °  O     °    °  O  '-^r-"0  o  <*» 
 
 WW      W*      WW      W 
 
 O 
 
 3/ 
 
 o 
 
 WO 
 n  r5 
 
 per  cent 
 yielded. 
 
 wo 
 
 SS 
 
 Boiling 
 
 Point, 
 Fah. 
 
 Hfc  o 
 
 8  P- 
 o  3: 
 
 TO 
 
 P 
 
 ^  o 
 
 »    i  2  a  o 
 
 c  C      as  a. 
 
 3.  P  C  o  n> 
 
 5       2  tt, 
 
 ,;   u    -    3   o 
 
 ~  •  S-  o  <» 
 crq  «  nr  s  - 
 
 w    3 
 
 !?   :g"3 
 
 o  3^  B  ' 
 
 83  2.  a  o  o 
 a  n  J?  3  — 
 3    3  -•    N 
 
 n    C/3  o  e-    (a 
 
 S.  83     •  •-  r-- 
 
 CJ  -«,  O  -  a 
 
 ,   iv»  -I 
 
 n 
 
 n> 
 
 f>  o 
 
 p    - 
 
 -  83 
 
 «,  3J     w 
 
 o 
 
 »T)  a 
 
 P    3 
 3       U>!P 
 
 .       °3 
 
48  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 9.    STATEMENT  AND  TABLE  IN  RELATION  TO  QUALITY 
 OF  OIL. 
 
 Some  light  is  thrown  on  this  point  by  the  following  conside- 
 rations. In  the  last  report  of  the  Chief  of  the  Bureau  of  Statistics, 
 Commerce  and  Navigation,  the  following  figures  are  given  for  the 
 fiscal  year : 
 
 1878 — 619,007,044  gallons  petroleum,  total  product  in  the  U .  S. 
 289,214,541  gallons  refined  oil  exported. 
 26,936,727  gallons  crude  oil  exported. 
 Now  supposing  66  per  cent,  to  be  the  highest  amount  of  Ker- 
 osene  of  the    proper   quality  obtainable,  the  refined    oil  exported 
 would  be  equivalent  to 
 
 ^33,?j  [,8i  1  gallons 
 26,936,727  gallons 
 
 460,758,53s  gallons  exported. 
 
 158,248,466  gallons  left  for  home  consumption- 
 
 619,007,004  gallons. 
 
 1877 — 454,560,582  gallons  petroleum,  total  product  in  the  U.  S. 
 262,441, 84.4  gallons  refined  oil  exported. 
 26,819,202  gallons  crude  oil  exported. 
 
 In  the  same  way  as  before  we  have  the  refined  oil  equivalent 
 *°         393>662>766  gallons 
 26,819,202  gallons 
 
 420,078,614  gallons  exported. 
 34,078,614  gallons  left  for  home  consumption. 
 
 454,560,582  gallons. 
 
 The  amount  remaining  in  our  own  markets,  is  sufficient  for, 
 1878  to  cover  home  consumption,  but  fell  far  short  in  1877,  unless 
 indeed  we  suppose  a  production  of  76  per  cent,  of  Kerosene ;  in, 
 that  case  the  refined  oil  exported  would  be  equivalent  to 
 
 374-3lS>-l6gallons 
 26,819,202  gallons 
 
 372,137,418  gallons  exported. 
 82,423,164  gallons  left  for  home  consumption. 
 
 454,560,582  gallons. 
 
LECTURE  OF  PKO)'.  SCHWEITZER.  43 
 
 This  calculation  gives  for  1878  the  equivalent  of 
 crude  oil  exported  as  407,491,273  gallons,  while  Mr. 
 Thompson  McGowan  of  Cleveland ,  Ohio,  fixes  it  at 
 407,482,175  gallons.  That  this  oil  however  is  inferior  is 
 proved  by  my  own  experience  in  Missouri  and  by  the 
 following  statement  taken  from  StcwelVs  Petroleum  Re- 
 porter of  May  15,  1879: 
 
 DETERIORATION  OF  REFINED  OILS. 
 
 Considerable  and  general  complaint  has  for  the  past 
 six  months,  from  time  to  time,  been  coming  to  us  from 
 the  petroleum  points  of  Europe,  touching  fhe  condition 
 of  the  last  year's  export. 
 
 These  complaints  found  decided  expression  at  a 
 meeting  of  the  different  chambers  of  commerce,  held  at 
 Bremen  on  the  25th  of  February  last.  At  this  congress 
 it  was  plainly  charged,  that  the  recent  imports  of  petro- 
 leum, especially  the  various  brands  of  the  Standard  Oil 
 Company,  were  of  a  marked  inferior  quality,  that  the  in- 
 feriority consisted  in  the  color,  the  fire  test  and  the  con- 
 dition of  the  packages.  Beside  this  expression  from 
 Germany,  the  Petroleum  Association  of  London  having 
 in  February  last  caused  an  analysis  of  quantities  of  im- 
 ported petroleum  found  some  of  the  Standard  Oil  Com- 
 pany's brands  exceedingly  deficient,  as  for  instance:  the 
 brand  known  as  the  Royal  Daylight — that  this  brand 
 out  of  15,373  bbls.  they  took  390  bbls.  for  test  by  analy- 
 sis and  found  34^2  Per  cent,  flashing  at  ioo°;  as  to  color 
 and  merchantable  qualities  they  further  found  only  91 
 percent,  of  the  samples  to  be  pure  white,  while  21  t  bbls. 
 were  Standard  white,  6^  good  merchantable  and  7  bbls. 
 not  good  merchantable  As  well  they  may,  these  com- 
 plaints seem  to  have  awakened  the  attention  of  the  trade 
 in  this  country. 
 
 The  Produce  Exchange  of  New  York  promptly 
 took  the  subject  up  and  the  result  has  been  the  appoint- 
 ment of  a  committee  "to  consider  the  recommendations 
 of  the  Bremen  Congress,  and  any  suggestions  that  may 
 be  made  by  those  interested  in  the  trade,  looking  to  a 
 practical   remedy   of  the   existing   cause   of  complaint." 
 
44 
 
 UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 And  we  are  told  that  daily  sessions  will  be  held  until  the 
 duties  of  the  committee  shall  be  satisfactorily  discharged. 
 Touching  the  cause  of  the  complaints  of  the  inferi- 
 ority, we  have  no  doubt  that  it  is  in  part  due  to  the  char- 
 acter of  the  oil  obtained  from  the  Bradford  field;  but  at 
 the  same  time  we  are  constrained  to  believe  that  it  may 
 in  part  be  due  to  the  manufacture  of  special  brands  of 
 high  grade  oil,  which  commands  specially  high  prices; 
 while  the  common  standards  are  deteriorated. 
 
 10.     KEROSENE  OIL  SOLD  IN  COLUMBIA  (MO.),  AND  MAT- 
 TERS  RELATING  TO  COAL  OIL  INSPECTION. 
 
 1S75 
 
 1S77 
 
 1879 
 
 Number. 
 
 ^2 
 
 o  5° 
 
 «  a 
 
 O    -1 
 
 3-2. 
 
 -  ^ 
 
 Cd 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^  sr 
 
 ~0    c 
 
 0  Zl 
 
 T3    rr 
 
 0  p 
 
 O    f 
 
 J..    7. 
 
 3    V 
 
 £5    ^ 
 
 3    3" 
 
 r*"  5* 
 
 f  3 
 
 f*  5" 
 
 C/q 
 
 cro 
 
 I 
 
 2  - 
 
 3  - 
 
 4  - 
 
 5  - 
 
 6  - 
 
 7  - 
 
 8  - 
 
 9 
 
 10  - 
 Ji 
 
 12  - 
 
 Average 
 
 *3  - 
 
 14        . 
 
 106 
 
 37 
 
 88 
 
 SS 
 88 
 88 
 
 91 
 '39 
 
 88 
 
 100 
 
 no 
 
 86 
 
 93 
 
 80 
 
 82 
 
 88 
 
 82 
 
 79 
 
 88 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 77 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 77 
 
 1 
 75 
 
 84 
 
 — 
 
 81 
 
 82 
 
 — 
 
 81 
 
 SS 
 
 76 
 
 ... 
 
 — 
 
 77 
 
 82 
 
 s9 
 
 83 
 
 ,  J49 
 
 171 
 
 — 
 
 140 
 
 114 
 
 88 
 88 
 
 79 
 So 
 
 80 
 
 82 
 
 150 
 
 These  oils  were  tested  during  January  or  February 
 of  each  year,  and  were  taken  from  barrels  stamped  by 
 the  St.  Louis  Coal  Oil  Inspector  as  having  no"  F.  fire 
 test,  except  Nos.  13,  14  and  No.  1,  1879,  which  were 
 stamped,  the  two  former  as  having  175"  F.  and  the  latter 
 1500  F.  fire  test.  A  complaint  on  the  part  of  the  retail 
 dealer  here  to  the  wholesale  merchant  drew  forth  the 
 following  reply : 
 
 St.  Louis,  Mo.,  February  2nd,   1877. 
 *  *  *     ''If  your  University  Chemist  would  attend  to  some- 
 thing he  knows  about,  it  would  be  more  creditable  fo   him.     AM 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.   SCHWEITZER.  45 
 
 the  oil  v\e  send  you  will  stand  no  degrees  te&t  by  any  fair  in- 
 spection. Our  University  Chemist  here  attempted  the  same- 
 thing:  but  when  he  learned  to  test  oii  practically  he  was  we 
 think  convinced,  that  theory  was  one  thing  and  practice  another." 
 
 I  suppress  the  names  of  the  parties  from  motives  of 
 charity,  but  suggest  that  the  note  be  read  in  the  light  of 
 the  numerous  accidents  and  horrors  from  Coal  Oil  that 
 have  occurred  almost  daily  in  various  parts  o?  our  state 
 and  have  been  published  in  the  St.  Louis  papers.  These 
 parties  and  others  that  might  be  named,  evidently  think 
 that  the  testing  of  oils  must  be  learned  by  the  Chemist 
 or  man  of  Science  from  the  Inspector,  whose  claim  to 
 the  position,  as  usually  filled,  is  of  a  political  or  similar 
 character.  I  call  in  this  connection  attention  to  the  fol- 
 lowing statement,  which  appeared  in  the  St.  Louis  Re- 
 publican of  February  5th,  1879: 
 
 [From  the  Missouri  Republican,  Feb.  5,  1879.J 
 The  grand-jury  sat  late  on  Monday  evening.  They 
 were  anxious  to  prevent  a  caucus  on  the  part  of  certain 
 parties,  who,  they  had  been  led  to  believe  were  interest- 
 ed in  covering  up  some  crookedness  connected  with  the 
 gauging,  inspection  and  stamping  of  coal  oil  in  this  city. 
 They  thought  they  were  in  a  fair  way  to  obtain  convict- 
 ing evidence,  provided  the  parties  under  investigation  did 
 not  succeed  in  getting  together  and  agreeing  on  some 
 plan  for  mutual  protection.  With  a  view  to  preventing 
 that  occurrence,  they  had  a  number  of  men  employed  in 
 watching  the  oil-works,  the  coal  oil  inspector's  office  and 
 such  other  places  as  a  caucus  was  likely  to  be  held.  Yet, 
 in  spite  of  all  these  precautions,  the  officers  were  eluded, 
 and  in  a  little  room  at  the  Laclede  hotel  the  meeting 
 was  held.  It  did  not  last  long,  but  it  probably  sufficed 
 to  effect  arrangements  to  tide  over  the  present  crisis. 
 
 The  grand-jury,  although  not  aware  of  the  caucus, 
 had  learned  that  Hon.  Hairison  Attaway,  coal  oil  in- 
 spector for  St.  Louis,  had  been  summoned  here  from 
 his  home  at  Lebanon,  Mo.,  by  a  telegram  sent  by  his 
 deputy,  Mr.  Cliff  Able.     They  had  also  learned  that  Mr. 
 
46  UNIVERSITY    OF    MI8SOURI. 
 
 Attaway  would  very  probably  start  on  the  9:45  train  for 
 Jefferson  City.  *  *  *  Shortly  before  train  time  Mr. 
 Attaway,  in  a  serious  mood,  arrived.  He  was  about  to 
 secure  his  seat  when  the  detectives  approached  him  and 
 told  him  that  he  was  wanted.  He  demanded  their  au- 
 thority and  they  said  they  had  the  authority  of  the  grand- 
 jury.  After  some  parley,  he  went  with  them  to  the 
 Four  Courts. 
 
 Meanwhile  officers    were  industriously  endeavoring 
 to  ascertain  the  whereabouts  of  Mr.  Cliff  Able,  Mr.  At 
 taway's  deputy,  with  a  view  to  arresting   him.     Their 
 efforts,  however,  were  futile. 
 
 Yesterday  forenoon  Mr.  Attaway  and  Mr.  Able 
 were  at  the  Four  Courts.  The  former  went  before  the 
 grand-jury,  and  was  examined  there  for  a  couple  of 
 hours.  The  result  of  his  examination  was  that  a  num- 
 ber of  record  books  were  brought  from  the  inspector's 
 office  and  taken  charge  of  by  the  jury-  The  jury  then 
 proceeded  to  the  criminal  court  and  made  report,  the 
 substance  of  which  was  not  made  known  to  the  public. 
 Bench  warrants  had  been  made  out.  and  Messrs.  Atta- 
 way and  Able  were  notified  that  they  would  be  required 
 to  give  bond  of  $1,000  each.  The  former  simply  re- 
 newed his  bond  with  Dr.  Nidelet  as  security,  to  answer 
 to  any  indictment  that  might  be  brought  against  him, 
 and  the  latter  gave  bond,  with  Mr.  J.  J.  Daly  as  security, 
 to  answer  before  the  court  to-morrow  morning  to  the 
 charge  of  contempt,  the  grounds  of  which  charge  will 
 more  fully  appear  hereafter. 
 
 As  both  the  gentlemen  professed  to  be  utterly  ignor- 
 ant as  to  the  nature  of  the  prosecution  to  which  they  are 
 to  be  subjected,  and  as  the  members  of  the  grand-jury 
 are  pledged  to  secrecy  in  regard  to  all  matters  before 
 them  it  is  not  practicable  to  state,  with  such  a  fullness 
 and  clearness  as  would  be  desirable,  what  are  the 
 charges  and  the  facts  on  which  they  are  based.  Still,  a 
 pretty  fair  outline  ot  the  matter  can  be  stated,  as  gleaned 
 from  a  dozen  different  sources. 
 
 For  many  months  there  has  been  a  general  com- 
 plaint among  merchants  who  have  the  handling  of  coal 
 oil  in  this  city  that  the  contents  of  the  barrels  purchased 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER,  47 
 
 by  them  were  from  one  to  three  gallons — and  sometimes 
 as  much  as  four  gallons  short  of  the  quantity  stamped  on 
 the  head,  ostensibly  by  the  inspector.  As  their  bills 
 were  all  made  out  according  to  the  stamps  on  the  bar- 
 rels, this  was  a  matter  seriously  affecting  margins.  For 
 a  long  time  the  discrepancy  was  explained  away  on  the 
 theory  of  evaporation,  but  the  shortage  became  so  great 
 that  dealers  began  to  grow  skeptical  as  to  this  theory. 
 Then  they  got  to  comparing  notes,  and  they  were  as- 
 tounded to  find  how  uniform  was  the  cause  for  complaint. 
 
 Moreover  the  retailers  found— and  the  record  of 
 coal-oil  accidents  went  to  sustain  them — that  the  oil  was 
 very  frequently  not  of  the  proof  which  the  law  re- 
 quires; that  instead  of  standing  the  degree  of  heat  spec- 
 ified by  statute  as  a  minimum,  it  would  ignite  much  be- 
 low it.  Gradually  this  grievance  was  made  known  to 
 the  wholesale  men,  who,  in  turn,  associated  it  with  the 
 shortage  phenomenon.  In  order  that  the  general  read- 
 er, who  may  not  be  posted  as  to  the  system  of  handling 
 oil  here,  may  understand  the  situation,  a  slight  digres- 
 sion from  the  main  story  is  here  necessary. 
 
 In  order  to  regulate  the  sale  of  this  inflammable 
 and  popular  commodity,  there  is  a  statute  providing  for 
 a  coal-oil  inspector  in  St.  Louis,  another  in  Kansas  City, 
 another  in  Hannibal  and  another  in  St.  Joseph.  These 
 men  are  paid  by  commissions,  being  allowed  a  specified 
 amount  for  every  barrel  of  oil  inspected.  All  the  crude 
 oil  coming  to  St.  Louis  is  brought  here  by  the  firm  of 
 Waters,  Pierce,  &  Co.,  whose  refining  establishments 
 are  at  the  edge  of  the  Union  depot  yards,  one  at  Four- 
 teenth street  and  the  other  at  Tayon  avenue.  They  put 
 the  oil  through  a  refining  process,  and  it  must  be  brought 
 to  a  certain  grade — susceptible  of  a  certain  fire  test — be- 
 fore it  can  be  placed  upon  the  market.  Moreover,every 
 barrel  must  be  gauged  and  stamped  by  the  inspector  or- 
 his  deputy. 
 
 From  the  complaints  of  the  merchants  as  to  short- 
 age and  inferior  oil,  the  grand-jury  became  satisfied  that 
 there  was  fraud  somewhere.  After  taking  a  considera- 
 ble amount  of  testimony  showing  that  fact,  they  sent  for 
 Mr.  Able,   Mr.   Attaway   being   absent   from    the   city. 
 
48  UNIVERSITY    OP    MISSOURI. 
 
 They  learned  that,  instead  of  going  to  the  works  and  in- 
 specting the  oil  themselves,  these  gentlemen  were  in  the 
 habit  ot  allowing  the  employes  of  the  refining  company 
 to  mark  the  grade  and  contents  on  the  barrels  and  that 
 this  had  been  done  for  weeks  at  a  time.  Of  course  if 
 inferior  oil  was  put  upon  the  market  as  of  a  high  grade, 
 there  was  a  profit  to  somebody.  And,  of  course,  again, 
 if  thirty-six  gallons  were  sold  as  forty,  there  was  more 
 profit  to  somebody.  These  two  profits  on  each  barrel  of 
 oil  must  represent  vast  sums  in  the  course  of  a  month's 
 business  in  such  a  city  as  this,  but  it  is  not  impossible 
 that  the  circumstances  have  been  misinterpreted,  and 
 that  what  appears  to  be  fraud  may  have  some  fair  expla- 
 nation. Or,  even  if  there  are  great  frauds  in  the  busi- 
 ness, it  is  not  impossible  that  the  gentlemen  under  arrest 
 and  the  refining  firm  are  ignorant  of  them,  while  the 
 employes  are  getting  the  benefit.  All  of  this  remains 
 to  be  determined  by  investigation. 
 
 However  all  that  may  be,  Mr.  Able,  when  before 
 the  jury,  agreed  to  exhibit  to  that  body  the  books  of  the 
 office.  When  he  got  outside  the  jury-room,  however,  he 
 manifested  a  disposition  to  disregard  his  agreement.  A 
 subpoena  was  sent  after  him,  and  he  disregarded  it.  A 
 subpoena  duces  tecum  was  sent  and  he  ran  from  the 
 office.  An  attachment  was  sent  and  he  was  nowhere  to 
 be  found.  The  jury,  under  the  fear  that  the  books  would 
 be  rewritten  if  sufficient  time  was  allowed,  made  strene- 
 ous  endeavors  to  get  possession  of  the  books  Monday 
 night,  but  failed.  Those  which  were  produced  yester- 
 day morning  were  examined,  and  a  gentleman,,  who  saw 
 them  in  the  jury-room,  declared  that  they  all  had  the 
 appearance  of  having  been  written  but  a  few  hours  be- 
 fore, the  ink  being  quite  fresh.  This  view,  however, 
 may  be  explained  by  a  too  suspicious  mind. 
 
 When  the  jury  learned  that  Mr.  Able  had  con- 
 sulted able  counsel  before  and  after  entering  the  jury 
 room ;  when  they  learned  that  telegrams  had  been  sent 
 Mr.  Attaway;  when  the)'  learned  that  the  caucus  re- 
 ferred to  in  the  beginning  of  this  article  had  been  held 
 in  spite  of  their  endeavors,  they  were  very  indignant, 
 .and  it  seems  quite  certain  that  there  will  be  serious  pun- 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  49 
 
 ishment    for    contempt.     Two    indictments    have    been 
 found. 
 
 The  legitimate  fees  of  the  office,  as  shown  by  the 
 investigation,  amount  to  $9,000  in  a  year,  and  this  is  to 
 be  divided  between  only  the  inspector  and  the  deputy, 
 
 I  also  call  attention  to  a  statement  in  the  St.  Louis 
 Globe- Democrat  of  February  25th,  1879: 
 
 [From  the  Globe-Democrat,  Feb.  25th,  1879.] 
 
 The  Grand  Jury  report  presented  to  Judge  Laugh- 
 lin  yesterday  noon  may  be  summed  up  as  follows: 
 
 THE  COAL  OIL  MATTER. 
 
 5.  They  also  diligently  investigated  the  complicity  of 
 the  principal  venders  of  petroleum  or  coal  oil  in  this 
 market,  and  desire  to  report  the  result  of  that  investiga- 
 tion so  that  the  law-makers,  now  in  session  at  Jefferson 
 City,  may  know  how  the  law  now  in  existence,  intended 
 for  the  protection  of  life  and  property,  is  evaded  and  ren- 
 dered void  and  of  no  effect.  The  former  law  required 
 that  the  fire  test  for  standard  oil  should  be  no.  This  test 
 not  being  sufficiently  safe,  and  for  the  better  protection 
 of  the  lives  and  property  of  those  who  use  petroleum,  a 
 new  law,  the  one  now  in  force,  was  enacted  by  the  leg- 
 islature, raising  the  fire  test  for  standard  oil  to  150,  re- 
 quiring that  the  contents  for  each  and  every  barrel  or 
 package  should  be  inspected  by  the  inspector,  and  the 
 same  gauge  tested  and  branded  and  the  quantity  and 
 quality  of  each  barrel  branded  on  the  barrel,  and  that 
 all  under  150  should  be  branded  "Rejected."  The  jury 
 found  from  the  evidence  of  parties  before  them  that  the 
 barrels  were  gauged  and  branded  before  the  oil  was  put 
 into  them. 
 
 The  gauging  of  the  barrels  is  mostly  done  by  the 
 employes  of  the  Waters-Pierce  Oil  Company.  The 
 oil  as  a  general  thing  was  tested,  and  in  the  tanks  in 
 which  it  was  received  from  the  East,  and  not  in  the  bar- 
 rels, as  the  law  requires;  and  the  fire  tests  are,  to  a  great 
 extent,  made  by  the  employes  of  the  same  company,  and 
 not  by  the  Inspector,  as  the  law  provides.  The  barrels, 
 as  a  general  thing,  were  branded  by  the  Inspector,  but 
 the  brands  were  left  in  the  possession  of  the  oil  compa- 
 
60  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 ny,  perfectly  accessible  to  the  company  or  its  employes, 
 so  that  they  could  be  used  if  so  desired,  and  the  grand- 
 jury  found  that  in  some  cases  they  were  so  used  by  per- 
 sons in  the  employ  of  the  Waters-Pierce  Oil  Company. 
 Thev  also  found  that  when  the  barrels  were  branded 
 "Rejected"  the  word  "Rejected"  was  erased  or  marked 
 out  by  the  employes  of  the  company.  The  fire  test  ap- 
 peared to  have  always  been  marked  on  the  barrel,  but 
 how  accurately  the  grand-jury  had  not  as  full  and  satis- 
 factory evidence  as  they  desired.  But  some  test  barrels, 
 the  fire  tests  of  which  were  branded  150,  were,  on  the 
 inspection,  found  to  be  10  or  15  below.  Evidence  is  also 
 before  the  grand  jury  that  barrels  were  gauged  to  con- 
 tain more  oil  than  the  size  of  the  barrels  could  possibly 
 contain — say  a  barrel,  the  capacity  of  which  is  50  gal- 
 lons, was  gauged  to  contain  51  or  51^  gallons.  The 
 value  of  the  oil  ranges  according  to  the  test  from  3  to  31^ 
 cents  per  gallon  between  no  and  150.  There  would 
 no  serious  injury  result  from  testing  oil  in  the  tanks,  pro- 
 vided the  oil  was  tested  by  the  Inspector  and  the  same 
 filled  into  barrels  into  his  presence. 
 
 And  also  not  to  be  one-sided  to  the  verdict  publish- 
 ed in  the  St.  Louis  Globe- Democrat  of  May  iSth,   1879: 
 [St.  Louis  Globe-Democrat,  Sunday,  May  18,  1S79.] 
 COAL    OIL    RING    A    MYTH. 
 
 Waters-Pierce  Oil   Company  Vindicated. 
 
 A  few  weeks  ago  certain  articles  appeared  in  the 
 St.  Louis  Grocer,  a  trade  journal  published  under  the 
 auspices  of  Greeley,  Burnharn  &  Co.,  in,  relation  to  coal 
 oil  matters,  reflecting  upon  the  Inspector,  Harrison  At- 
 taway,  and  the  parties  chiefty  engaged  in  supplying  the 
 St.  Louis  market  with  coal  oil.  The  articles  charged 
 that  enormous  frauds  had  been  perpetrated  in  guaging 
 and  inspecting  coal  oil. 
 
 The  "Waters-Pierce  Oil  Company"  furnish  proba- 
 bly ninety -nine  hundreths  of  all  the  coal  oil  sold  in  St. 
 Louis,   and   although   they    were    not   directly  charged 
 
LECTURE   OF   PROF.    SCWEITZER.  51 
 
 with  the  supposed  frauds,  they  at  once  sued  Greeley, 
 Burnham  &  Co.  for  a  libel  upon  their  business. 
 
 A  large  number  of  depositions  were  taken  on  both 
 sides,  and  these  conclusively  showed  that  so  tar  as  Wa- 
 ters-Pierce Oil  Company  were  concerned  no  wrong 
 whatever  had  been  committed;  but  that  both  the  guag- 
 ing  and  testing  had  been  honestly  done.  But  the  testi- 
 mony further  showed  that  there  had  been  no  fraudulent 
 guaging  or  testing  done  by  anybody,  and  that  conse- 
 quently the  indictment  of  the  Inspector  and  of  his  dep- 
 uty, Able,  was  an  egregious  blunder. 
 
 Two  or  three  trifling  irregularities  appeared  in  the 
 mode  of  discharging  his  duties  by  the  Deputy  Insj^ector, 
 but  not  in  the  least  affecting  his  integrity,  and  mostly 
 chargeable  upon  deficiencies  in  the  old  inspection  law, 
 which  never  was  sensible,  and  which  has  long  since  been 
 outgrown  by  the  business  to  which  it  was  intended  to 
 apply. 
 
 THE    ATTAWAY    CASE  ENDED. 
 
 When  the  case  against  Coal  Oil  Inspector  Harrison 
 Attaway  was  called  in  Judge  Cady's  court  yesterday 
 morning,  the  defendant's  counsel,  Messrs.  George  W. 
 Cline  and  F.  D.  Turner,  appeared  and  stated  that  the 
 attorneys  for  the  state,  who  were  not  present,  had 
 agreed  that  they  did  not  possess  sufficient  evidence  to  se- 
 cure a  conviction.  Prosecuting  Attorney  Hogan  said 
 he  knew  nothing  about  the  case,  and  so,  as  the  regular 
 counsel  for  the  prosecution  was  not  present,  was  willing 
 that  the  case  should  be  dismissed  for  want  of  prosecu- 
 tion.    Accordingly  the  defendant  was  discharged. 
 
 I  may  be  allowed  in  this  connection  to  make  some 
 additional  remarks  in  regard  to  the  inspection  of  Petro- 
 leum oils;  the  yearly  consumption  of  them  for  the 
 United  States  is  estimated  at  2,190,000  barrels  and  for 
 our  own  state  at  100,000  barrels;  three  fourths  of  this 
 quantity  is  tested  in  St.  Louis,  bringing  to  the  Inspector 
 at  least  $9,000  a  year  in  fees;  were  he  to  make  inspec- 
 tions of  smaller  packages  than  barrels,  his  fees  would  be 
 even  more  than  that;  now  allowing-    1  =;  minutes  to  each 
 
52  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 test,  which  including  the  time  for  collecting-  is  certainly 
 very  moderate,  18,750  working  hours  will  be  required. 
 The  year,  Sundays  and  holidays  included,  has  8,760 
 hours,  whence  it  can  be  seen  that  the  St.  Louis  Inspec- 
 tor and  his  deputy  must  each  work  24  hours  a  day  the 
 year  round,  and  manage  besides  to  put  in  somewhere 
 1,230  extra  hours,  to  accomplish  the  testing  of  75,000 
 samples,  for  it  is  impossible  to  make  even  for  an  hour 
 two  tests  alongside  of  each  other  with  any  degree 
 of  accuracy;  close  attention  is  required  throughout. 
 It  is  perhaps  significant  that  the  same  gentleman 
 who  at  the  time  of  his  first  appointment  made  oath 
 io  -perform  the  duties  of  his  office  -ivith  fidelity,  and  who 
 was  able  to  accomplish  this  in  some  occult  manner,  has 
 been  rewarded  since  by  the  Governor  of  the  state  with 
 a  re-appointment  to  the  same  position. 
 
 11.    PRICE  OF  OIL  IN  NEW  YORK  MARKET. 
 
 Office  of  Charles  Pratt  &  Co.,         1 
 Established  1770,  I 
 
 No.  128  Pearl  St.,  New  York, 
 
 January  28th,  1S79.  J 
 
 Prof.  P.  Schweitzer,  Columbia,  Mo. : 
 
 Dear  Sir:  Your  favor  of  the  20th  instant  at  hand  ordering 
 ten  gallons  of  Astral,  which  has  attention.  The  price  in  barrels, 
 small  lots,  is  21  cents,  but  we  would  sell  a  car  load  at  18  cents  in 
 barrels  and  22  cents  in  cans. 
 
 In  answer  to  your  inquiries,  we  may  state,  that  the  difference 
 in  price  between  no°fire  test  oil  and  1500  fire  test,  is  to-day  .in 
 this  market  6  cents  per  gallon,  but  special  causes  sometimes  lower 
 or  advance  this.  The  price  of  Astral  is  from  2  to  3  cents  per  gal- 
 lon above  what  is  known  in  the  market  as  1500  oil. 
 
 Yours  truly,  Charles  Pratt  &  Co. 
 
 White  Line,  ) 
 
 St.  Louis,  Feb.  22nd,   1879.      [ 
 Freight  from  New  York  to  St.  Louis  4th  class  54  cents. 
 
 D.  T.  Packer. 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER. 
 
 53 
 
 12.     TABLE  OF  TESTS  OF  PETROLEUM,  REQUIRED  BY 
 LAWS  IN  DIFFERENT  STATES. 
 
 I  Flashing 
 
 STATES.                                point» 
 
 Burning    j 
 Point. 
 
 ioo°  F 
 ioo°  F 
 ioo°  F 
 
 I2O0   F 
 
 ioo°  F 
 ioo°  F 
 ioo°  F 
 
 no0  F 
 
 Date  of  law  1868 
 
 Ohio 
 
 »      "     "     1863 
 -      ••      "     1867 
 
 «      «     "     1879 
 
 ••      '«     "     1869 
 
 «      "     "     1871 
 
 New  York  (*) 
 
 1871 
 
 (*)     1865 — ioo°  Fire  test;  1S66—  no"  Fire  test. 
 
 Fire  test. 
 
 Pennsylvania 
 
 no0  F 
 no0  F 
 
 «     «     1865 
 «      «     ••     1868 
 
 1  io°  F 
 no0  F 
 110°  F 
 1200  F 
 itjo0  F 
 
 -      «     •>     1869 
 
 Georgia 
 
 «      "     «     1870 
 
 Maryland 
 
 -      «     «     1871 
 
 Maine 
 
 »      '•     «     1867 
 
 Missouri  (|) 
 
 «         «       -       1879 
 
 (f)  1865 — no0  F  emit  an  explosive  gas  or  take  fire;  1867 — 
 no"  F  ignite  and  explode;  1S68— same  as  before;  fee  reduced  to  5 
 cents  a  package;  1S70 — same  as  before;  fee  raised  to  6  and  12  cts. 
 a  package;  1877 — 1500  F  fire  test. 
 
 18.    THE  NEW  COAL  OIL  LAW.  PASSED  MARCH  27th,  1879. 
 
 The  result  of  this  lecture,  which  I  repeated  by  invi- 
 tation, on  March  12th,  in  the  hall  of  the  House  of  Rep- 
 resentatives at  Jefferson  City,  was  the  introduction  by 
 Senator  Burkholder  of  a  coal-oil  bill,  which  in  my  judg- 
 ment covered  very  thoroughly  all  points  of  importance 
 and  had  my  unqualified  approval  and  indorsement. 
 
 It  was  not,  however,  the  only  bill  introduced  on  the 
 subject  in  the  legislature,  and  was  with  the  rest  referred 
 to  the  committee  on  Insurance,  which  reported  back  a 
 substitute,  which  finally  passed  and  became  a  law. 
 
 This  law,  the   result   of  the   deliberation  of  several 
 
54  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 committees,  one  of  which  at  least  was  aided  and  enlight- 
 ened by  a  representative  and  his  attorney  of  a  large  coal 
 oil  house  in  the  state,  is  an  extremely  inferior  piece  of 
 workmanship;  for  it  retains  nearly  all  the  faults  of  the 
 old  law,  without  offering  any  compensating  superior 
 features;  no  safer  oils  need  be  expected  by  the  consum- 
 mer  under  its  working  than  have  heretofore  been  sold  in 
 the  state  under  the  old  law.  I  will  mention  a  few,  and 
 only  a  few  of  the  objections  to  it : 
 
 i.  It  does  not  require  the  Inspector  to  be  a  compe- 
 tent and  qualified  pei-son,  all  reference  to  it  being  omit- 
 ted ;  the  old  law  made  in  this  respect  at  least  a  show  ot 
 aiming  higher. 
 
 2.  It  omits  all  special  reference  to  the  mode  of 
 punishment  or  of  removal  of  Coal  Oil  Inspector  for  in- 
 competency when  branding  f.  e.,  oils  as  of  higher  fire 
 test  than  is  actually  the  case. 
 
 3.  It  makes  it  the  duty  of  the  Inspector  to  prose- 
 cute all  persons  found  violating  its  provisions;  this 
 amounts  either  to  nothing  or  to  too  much;  no  inspector  can 
 be  expected  to  act  the  part  of  a  detective  for  a  large  dis- 
 trict, and  he  should  surely  not  possess  the  right  to  prose- 
 cute offenders  to  the  exclusion  of  every  aggrieved  citizen. 
 
 4.  It  forbids  the  sale  and  use  (sec.  4)  for  illuminat- 
 ing purposes,  of  all  fluids  having  a  fire  test  below  1500  F 
 except  when  used  in  the  form  of  vapor  or  gas;  this 
 provision  is  defective  and  useless,  since  all  petroleum 
 lamps  are  in  reality  gas  or  vapor  lamps,  and  no  law  ex- 
 ists to  make  a  distinction  between  them  or  draw  any- 
 where a  dividing  line. 
 
 5.  It  gives  a  long  and  detailed  description  (sec.  2, 
 line  12-48)  of  the  manner  of  finding  the  flashing  point 
 of  an  oil,  and  after  having  found  it  makes  no  earthly  use 
 of  it.     It  is    required   neither  to  be  a  fixed   point  nor  to 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  66 
 
 be  branded  on  the  packages.     Its  purpose,  unless  it  is  to 
 breed  confusion,  can  not  be  apprehended. 
 
 6.  It  describes  in  detail  the  procedure  for  obtaining 
 the  fire  test  of  an  oil,  consuming  in  every  single  opera- 
 tion 45  minutes,  without  counting  the  time  for  collecting 
 samples  or  branding  packages.  This  is  a  grave  defect 
 since  it  gives  to  inferior  oils,  as  already  explained,  a  fic- 
 titious superiority  and  throws  most  of  the  business  into 
 the  hands  of  the  St.  Louis  inspector;  the  labor  involved  in 
 making  a  test  from  a  tank  of  1500  barrels  capacity  is  not 
 greater  than  making  it  from  a  barrel;  yet  in  the  former 
 case  the  fee  returned  is  180  dollars  and  in  the  latter  case 
 12  cents;  who  would  like  to  be  coal  oil  inspector  in  a 
 small  town? 
 
 14.  BIBLIOGRAPHY  OF  PETUOLEUM. 
 I  have  made  an  attempt  to  collect  as  far  as  I  was 
 able  all  references  to  Petroleum,  and  to  arrange  them 
 under  certain  headings,  hoping  that  the  labor  expended 
 will  be  repaid  by  the  usefulness,  to  which  the  informa- 
 tion may  be  put  by  brother  Chemists.  The  references 
 are  given,  wherever  possible,  to  Bcrzelius'  (B.  J.)  and 
 Liebig's  Jahresbericht  (L.J.)  and  to  the  original  sources 
 of  publication. 
 
 1.     Occurrence  axd  Origin: 
 L.  J.     1859,    Foetterle;   Verhandl.    d.  k.  k.    geol.    Reichsanstalt 
 1859,  183.     P.  i'r.  Gallicia. 
 1S61,  Andrews;  Sill.  Am.  J.  2,  23,  85  P.  fr.  Pa.  O.  Ky. 
 "         1S62,  Hunt;  Chem.  News  6,  5,  16.     P.  fr.  North  America. 
 
 1863,  Hunt;  Sill.  Am.  J.,  March,  1S63. 
 
 — ^-^  1866,  Lesley;  Proc.  Amer.  Philos.  Soc.  10,  ^,  187. 
 
 1S6S,  Hunt;  Sill.  Am.  J.,  Nov.  1868. 
 
 "         1S69,  Baumhauer;  Arch,  neerland,  4,  299,  P.  fr.  East  India. 
 "         1869,  Both;  Russ.  Zeitsch,  Pharm.  8,  467,  P.   fr.  Russian 
 
 Asia. 
 "         1871,  Hunt;  Sill.  Am.  J.  3,  1,  420. 
 
 "         187 1,  Le  Bel;  Compt.  rend,  73,  499,  P.  fr.  the  lower  Rhine. 
 "  "       Heurteau;  Ann.  d.  min.  6,  19,  197,  P.  fr.  Galicia. 
 
66  UNIVEK8ITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 L.  J.     1871,  Foetterle;  Verhandl,   d.    k.   k.   geol.    Reichsanstalt, 
 1S71,  356,  P.  from  Galicia. 
 "       Vital;  Ann.  d.  min.  6,  20,  318,  P.  fr.  Pundjab. 
 "         1872,  Le  Bel ;  Compt.  rend.  75,  267,  P.  fr.  the  lower  Rhine. 
 
 "       Torrev ;  Am.  Chem.  2,  290.  P.  fr.  Mexico. 
 "         1873,  Fuchs  and  Sarasin;  Arch.  ph.  nat.  dc  Genave,  1873, 
 107.     P.  from  Wallachia. 
 "      Joffre;  Bull.  soc.  chim,  2,  19,  547. 
 "  "       Knop;  Jahrb.  Min.  1873,  529.     P.  fr.  the  Odenwald. 
 
 "         1875,  Hunt;  Chemical  and  Geological  essays,  168. 
 "         1877,  Weil;  Monit.  scientific,  3,  7,  295. 
 
 "  "       Silvestri;  Gazz.  chim.  ital,  1877,  1.     P.  fr.  the    Etna. 
 
 "       Mendelijeff;  Ber.  chem.  Gesell.   1877,  229. 
 Chem.  C.  B.  1S79,  Ballo;  Ber.  chem.  Gesellsch,  11,  190.     P.  from 
 Budapest. 
 "         "     Radziszewski;  Arch,  pharm.  3,  13,  455. 
 2.     Composition  and  Properties: 
 
 1820,  Buchner  and  v.  Kobell;  Erdmann's  Jour.  8,  305. 
 
 B.   J.     1831,  Unverdorben;  Kastner's  Archiv.  14,  122.     Fractional 
 distillation. 
 "         ^34,  De    Saussure;    Ann.   d.  chem.  phys.  40,   230.     Ex- 
 periments with  Naphtha. 
 "       Dumas;  Analysis  of  Naptha. 
 "         1835,  Blanchet   and  Sell;  Ann.  Pharm.  6,  311.     Analysis 
 
 of  Petroleum. 
 "         1837,  v.  Kobell;  Journ.  pract.  chem.  5,  213.     P.  v.   Tege- 
 rnsee. 
 "       Gregory;  Journ.  pract.  chem.  1,  1,  P.  v.  Rangoon. 
 "  "       Hess;  Pogg.  Ann.  36,  417. 
 
 "         1841,  Pelletier   and    Walter;    Journ.     d.  Pharm.    25,   549. 
 P.  from  Amiano. 
 L.  J.     1847,  Frankenheim;  Pogg.  Ann.  72,  422.     Sp.  gravity. 
 "         1850,  Van  Hess;  Arch.  Pharm.  2,61,  18.     Sp.  gravity. 
 "         1856,  W.  de  la  Rue  and  Mueller;  Chem.  Gazz.  1856,  375. 
 
 P.  from  Rangoon. 
 "         i860,  Pebal;  Ann.   ch.  pharm.  115,  19.     P.    from  Gallicia. 
 "  "       Bussenius  and  Eisenstueck;  Ann.  chem.  pharm.  113, 
 
 "         1861,  Campbell;  The  Technologist  1S61,  249.     P.  from  Pa. 
 "  "       Bleekrode;  Rep.  chim.  appl.  4,  10.     P.  fr.  the  Indian 
 
 Archipelago. 
 "         1863,  Bolley  and  Schwarzenbach;  Ding.  J.  169,  123. 
 "  "       Pelouze  and  Cahours;  Compt.  rend.  56,  505;  57,  62. 
 
 "         186^,  Tuttschew;  Journ.  prac.  chem.  93,  394. 
 "  "       Buchner;  Ding.  pol.  J.  172,  392. 
 
 "         1865,  Ronalds;  Chem.  soc.  J.  2,  3,  54. 
 "  "       Warren;  Sill.  Am.  J.  2,40,  89-216-384. 
 
 "  "       Schorlemmer;  Chem.  News,  ii,  255. 
 
 "         1867,  Warren   and    Storer;  Memoirs   of  the    Am.    Acad. 
 
 (new  series)  11,  208.     P.  from  Burmah. 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    SCHWEITZER.  67 
 
 L.  J.     1867,  Silliman;  Sill.  Am.  J.  2,  43,  242.     P.  fr.  California. 
 "  "       Hager;  Pharm.  Centralhaile,  1866,  393. 
 
 "         1868,  Lefebvre;  Compt.  rend.  67,  1352. 
 "  "       Warren;  Sill.  Am.  J.  2,  45,  262. 
 
 "  "       Fouque;  Compt.  rend.  67,  1045. 
 
 "         1869,  Said   Effendi;  Compt.  rend.  68,  1565.     Electric  con- 
 duction. 
 "         1870,  Saint-Claire    Deville;  N.  Petersb.,  Acad.  Bull.  15,  29. 
 "         1871,  Lallemant;  Ann.  chem.  phys.  4,  22,  200. 
 "  "       Morton;  Sill.  Am.  J.  3,  2,  19S--355. 
 
 "  ,  "       Silliman  ;  Am.   chem.  2,  2,  18.     Private  report  made 
 
 in  1855. 
 "  "       Dana  Hayes;  Sill.  Am.  J.  3,  2,  184. 
 
 "         1872,  Cailletet;" Compt.  rend.  75,  77. 
 
 "         !874,  Heil  and  Medinger;  Chem.  Ges.  Ber.     1874,    I2I6- 
 "         1875,  Vohl;  Ding.  J.  216,  47. 
 
 "  "       Albrecht;  Zeitsch  f.  Paraffin,  etc.     Industrie,  1875,  1. 
 
 "         1876,  Hemilian ;  Chem.  Ges.  Ber.  1876,   1604. 
 
 "       Sadtler;  Am.  chem.  2,  7,  63-97-181. 
 
 "       Bourgougnon;  Am.  Chem.  2,  7,  81. 
 
 "  "  Am.  Chem.  Soc.  Proc.  2,  115. 
 
 "         1877,  Akestorides;  Jour.  prac.  Chem.  2,  15,  62. 
 "  "       Hell  and  Medinger;  Chem.  Ges.  Ber.  1877,  451. 
 
 "  "       Letniy;  Bull.  Soc.  chem.  2,  27,  554. 
 
 Chem.  C.  B.  1879,  Prunier  and  David;  Compt.  rend.  87,  991. 
 
 3.     Safety  and  Testing: 
 
 ■  1863,  Marx;  Ding.  J.  166,  348. 
 
 L.  J.  1865,  Atfield;  Chem.  News,  14,  257. 
 
 "  "       Salleron  and  Urbain ;  Compt.  rend.  62,  43. 
 
 "  "       Hager;  Pharm.  Centralhaile,  7,  233. 
 
 "  1868,  Peltzer;  Ding.  J.  189,61 
 
 "  "      Jeunesse;  Ann.  du  genie  civil  1S68,  J uillet. 
 
 "  1869,  Hutton;  Chem.  News,  19,  41. 
 
 "  "       Atfield;       "  "         19,70. 
 
 "  1870,  Paul;  "  "         21,  2. 
 
 "  "       Calvert;      "  "         21,85. 
 
 "  "       List;  Wagner's  Jahrcsber,  f.  1870,  708. 
 
 "  "       Jacobi;  Ding.  J.  195,  379. 
 
 "  1871,   Byusson;  Compt.  rend.  73,  609. 
 
 "  "       Van  der  Weyde;  Scientific  American,  1871,  162. 
 
 "  1873,  Chandler;  Ding.  J.  207,  262. 
 
 "  "      Jordery  ;  Journal  of  rharm.  1873,  348. 
 
 "  1874,  Badische  Gewerbezeitung;  6,  112. 
 "       Baird;  Compt.  rend.  78,  491-657. 
 
 "  1875,  Cornwall;  Am.  Chem.  2,  6,  458. 
 
 "  1876,  Cornwall;  Am.  Chem.  Society  Proc.  1,  71. 
 
 «  u       Merrill;  "  "  "  "     1,  115. 
 
 "  "       Sterling;   Ding.  J,  226,  no. 
 
58  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 4.     Industry. 
 
 B.   J.     1840,  Boettger;  Annual  d.  Pharm.   25,    100.     Purification 
 
 by  Oil  of  Vitriol. 
 k.   J.      1859,  Vohi;   Ding.  J.  147,  374.     Illumination. 
 "  "       Barlow;  Cosmos,  12,  513. 
 
 "  "       Hasse;   Ding.  J.  151,  445.     Collection  of  it. 
 
 "         i860,  Schwartz;  Oest.    Zeitsch.  f.   Bg,    u.  Huettenwesen, 
 
 18G0,  No.  16,  21. 
 "         1S61,  Breslauer  Gewerbeblatt,  1861   No.  16,  23.     Statistics 
 
 of  Pennsylvania  petroleum, 
 "         1S62,  Boileau;   Ann.  rnin.  6,  2,  95. 
 "  "       Kopp;   Rep.  chim.  appl.  4,  40S. 
 
 "  "  •    Marx  ;    Wuertembg.  Gewerbeblatt  1862,  No.  45. 
 
 "  1S63,  Boileau;  Ann.  min.  6,  4,  105. 
 "  *  "  Hix;  Rep.  chim.  appl.  5,  346. 
 "  "       Youle  Huide;  Ann.  min.  6,  4,  117. 
 
 44  "       Wiederhold ;   Ding.  J.  167,  63,  459. 
 
 "  "       Vogel;   Ding.  J.  167,  225. 
 
 "  "       Buchner;   Ding.  J.  169,339. 
 
 «  «       Weil;   Le  Technologiste  1862,    132. 
 
 "  "       Bolley;   Ding.   J.  169,  123. 
 
 "  "       Wittstein;   Viertelj.  practical  Pharm.  12,343. 
 
 "         1S64,  Wiederhold  ;   Ding.  J.  172,  468. 
 "         1S65,  Paul;  Chem.  News,  10,292;  11,63. 
 "  "       Richardson;   Chem.  News,  11,  39. 
 
 "  "       Vohl;  Ding.  J.   175,  459;  177,    58.     Mentioning   of 
 
 the  process  of  cracking. 
 "         1866,  Macadam;   Chem.  News,  14,  no. 
 "  "       Green;   Scientific  American,  13,  383. 
 
 "  "       Vohl;   Ding.  J.  1S2,  319- 
 
 "         1867;   Ott;   Ding.  J.  185,  195.     Lugo's  Apparatus. 
 
 "       Peckham;  Chem.  News,  16,199.     Apparatus. 
 
 "       Young  ;   Armengaud,  genie  industriel,  1S66,  27S. 
 "  "       Ott;   Ding.  J.  187,  171. 
 
 41  "       Bizarre  and  Labarre;  Ann.  min.  6,  n,  185. 
 
 "       Schilling;   Ding.  J.  1S4,  4S5. 
 44  "       Kolbe ;   D.    neuechem.  Lab.  d.  Universitaet  Leipzig, 
 
 1868,  21. 
 "  "       Reim;  Wien.  acad-  Anzeig.  1867,  155. 
 
 "       Hirzel;   Zeitsch.  f-  Chem.  1867,  617. 
 
 "       Silliman;  Chem.    News,    18,    171.     Petroleum  from 
 California. 
 44  "       Saint-Claire  Deville;  Compt.  rend.  66,  442. 
 
 "         1S69,         "         "  «  "  "      68,   349-485-6S6J 
 
 69>  933- 
 
 44  "       Peckham;   Sill.  Am.  J.  2,  47,  9. 
 
 4<  "       Humphrey;  Monit.  scientific,  n,  497. 
 
 "       Zaengerle;   Ding  J.  193,  122 
 "  "       Cech;  Ding.J.  194,  156. 
 
 44         1871,  Dana  Hayes;   Sill.  Am.  J.  3,  2,    184. 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.   SCHWEITZER.  49 
 
 L.  Jr  1871,  Byasson;  Compt.  rend.  73,  C09. 
 
 '"  "  Grotowsky:   Pharm.  Soc.  Transact]  3,  2,  226. 
 
 "  "  Silliman;  Sill.  Am.  J.  3,  1,408. 
 
 "  1872,  Dana  Hayes;  Am.  Chem.  2,  2,  401. 
 
 "  "  Fauck;   Berg.  u.  Iluettenm,  Zeit.  1872,  No.  41. 
 
 "  "  Marx;   Ding.  J.  206,  442. 
 
 "  "  Chandler;  Am.  Chem.  2,  2,  409-446;  3,  20-41. 
 
 "  1873,  Prunier;  Bull.  Soc.  chim.  2,  19,  109. 
 
 "  "  Fulist;  Ding.  T.  207,293. 
 
 "  "  Pagliari;  Compt.  rend.  76,  362. 
 
 "  "  "Arbeitgeber ;"  1873,  No.  843, 
 
 "  "  Hoffman  ;  Ding,  J.  208,  237. 
 
 "  1874,  Tweddle;  Arbeitgeber  Debr.  1S73. 
 
 "  187s,  Wagner;  Bayerisch.   Indust.  u.  Gewerbeblatt,   1875, 
 
 1,43- 
 
 "  "       Gadd;   Iron  1S75,  332. 
 
 "  "       Martin;  Le  Gaz. 
 
 "  "       Thompson;  Am.  Chem.  2,6,  11. 
 
 "         1S76,  Chandler;        "  "        2,6,251. 
 
 "         1S77,  Martins:  Sitzungsber  d.  Vereins  z.    Befoerderung  d. 
 Gewerbeneisses, 
 5,     Books  and  Pamphlets: 
 
 H.  Erni,  Coal  Oil  and  Petroleum,  etc. 
 
 1861,  A,  Gessner,  A  practical  treatise,  etc.  London, 
 1S63,  A.  N.  Tate,  Petroleum  and  its  products,  etc.    Liverpool. 
 1S65,  Haudouin  et  Soulie,  Le  petrole,    ses  gisements,  etc,     Paris. 
 "     E,  Schmidt,  Das  Erdoel  Galiziens,  Wien, 
 "      "  "         Die  Erdoelreichthuemer  Galiziens,  Wien. 
 
 "     v.  Neuendahl,  Vorkommen  und  Gewiririung  des  Petroleums 
 
 in  Galizien,  Wien. 
 "     Schiefer,  Tiber  das  naphthafnehrende  Terrain  west  Galiziens, 
 Wien, 
 1868,  B.  II,  Paul,  On  liquid  fuel,  London. 
 
 1S71,  C,  F.  Chandler,  Report   on  Petroleum   as   an    Illuminator, 
 New  York. 
 "     W.  Wright,  The    Oil    Regions   of  Pennsylvania,   etc.  New 
 *    York. 
 1S75,  H.  E.   Wrigley,  Special  Report  on  the  Petroleum  of  Penn- 
 sylvania.    Harrisburg,  (Second  Geological  Survey  of  Penn- 
 sylvania, 1874.) 
 "       S,  P,  Sadler,  Hydrocarbon  compounds;  Harrisburg.     (Sec- 
 ond Geological  Survey  of  Pennsylvania  1S74.    Preliminary 
 report  to   the  University  of  Pennsylvania  by  F.  A,  Genth 
 with  the  above  appendix,) 
 1876,  H.  B,  Cornwall,  Petroleum,  New  York. 
 1S77,  J.  F.  Carll,  Oil    well    Records    and    Levels;  Harrisburg, 
 (Second  Geological  Survey  of  Pennsylvania  1S76-7. 
 
60  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOUKI. 
 
 15.    DRAFT  OF   THE   COAL  OIL   BILL    SUBMITTED    TO    A 
 MEMBER  OF  THE  LEGISLATURE. 
 
 Be  it  enacted  by  the  General  Assembly  of  the  State  of 
 Missouri,  as  follows: 
 
 Section  i.  The  governor  shall  appoint  for  each 
 of  the  cities  of  St.  Louis,  Hannibal,  St.  Joseph  and  Kan- 
 sas City,  and  such  other  cities  or  towns  as  shall  by  the 
 city  or  town  authorities  petition  to  him  therefor,  an  in- 
 spector of  coal  oil,  carbon  oil,  petroleum  oil,  kerosene, 
 gasolene,  or  any  product  of  petroleum  used  tor  illumi- 
 nating or  burning  fluids,  by  what  ever  name  known, 
 which  may  be  manufactured  or  offered  for  sale  in  this 
 state;  said  inspector  shall  be  a  competent  and  qualified 
 person,  and  shall  at  his  own  expense  provide  himself 
 with  the  necessary  apparatus  for  the  testing  of  any  such 
 illuminating  oils  or  fluids. 
 
 Sec.  2.  It  shall  be  the  duty  of  the  inspector,  when 
 called  upon  for  that  purpose  by  the  owner,  manufacturer 
 of  or  dealer  in  any  of  said  illuminating  oils  or  fluids, 
 promptly  to  test  the  same  within  the  city  or  town  for 
 which  he  is  appointed.  The  inspector  shall  in  all  cases 
 take  the  oils  or  fluids  for  test  from  the  package  which  is 
 intended  to  be  branded,  and  in  no  case  shall  he  mark  or 
 brand  any  package  before  first  having  tested  the  contents 
 thereof,  and  the  quantity  used  for  testing  such  illuminat- 
 ing oil  or  fluid  shall  not  be  less  than  half  a  pint,  and 
 shall  be  tested  according  to  the  provisions  of  this  act, 
 and  all  such  illuminating  oils  or  fluids  that  will  emit  «n 
 inflammable  vapor  at  a  less  temperature  than  one  hun- 
 dred and  ten  degrees  Fahrenheit,  he  shall  brand  "reject- 
 ed for  illuminating  purposes,"  and  all  that  will  stand  the 
 flashing  test  of  one  hundred  and  ten  degrees  Fahrenheit, 
 he  shall  brand  "approved  standard  fluid." 
 
 Sec.  3.  The  inspector  shall,  in  addition  to  the 
 brand  in  section  two  provided,  affix  his  brand  or  device 
 upon  each  package  by  him   inspected,  designating   first, 
 
 his  name  and  place  and  date  of  inspection  thus, , 
 
 inspector  of ,  18 — ,  second,  the   flashing   point, 
 
LECTURE   OF    PROF.    SCHWEITZER.  61 
 
 thus, "F."  and  if  the  fluid  inspected  has  a  flashing 
 
 point  below  one  hundred  and  ten  degrees  F,  he  shall 
 brand  such  package  with  the  words  "highly  dangerous." 
 Sec.  4.  If  any  person,  manufacturer  or  dealer, 
 shall  sell  to  any  person  whatsoever  in  this  state,  any  of 
 the  said  illuminating  oils  or  fluids  before  first  having  the 
 same  inspected  as  provided  in  this  act,  he  shall,  on  con- 
 viction thereof,  be  fined  in  any  sum  not  exceeding  three 
 hundred  dollars;  and  if  any  manufacturer  or  dealer  of 
 said  illuminating  oils  or  fluids,  shall  with  intent  to  de- 
 ceive or  defraud ,  alter  or  erase  the  inspector's  brand  to 
 indicate  a  different  fire  test;  than  is  found  by  the  inspec- 
 tor, or  shall  use  with  such  intent  packages  having  any 
 inspector's  brand  thereon,  without  having  the  contents 
 actually  inspected  shall,  on  conviction,  be  fined  in  any 
 sum  not  exceeding  fifty  dollars  for  each  such  offense. 
 
 Sec.  5.  If  any  inspector  shall  brand  any  package 
 or  packages  of  the  said  illuminating  oils  or  fluids  in  the 
 manner  prescribed  for,  "approved  standard  fluid,"  when 
 such  oils  or  fluids  possess  a  flashing  point  of  less  than 
 one  hundred  and  ten  degrees  F,  he  shall  on  conviction 
 thereof,  be  fined  in  the  sum  of  three  hundred  dollars  and 
 forfeit  his  office. 
 
 Sec.  6.  All  prosecutions  for  fines  and  penalties  un- 
 der the  provisions  of  this  act  shall  be  by  indictment  or 
 information  in  any  court  of  competent  jurisdiction,  and 
 when  collected,  shall  be  paid  into  the  treasury  of  the 
 county  where  the  offense  is  committed,  one  half  of 
 which  shall  be  paid  to  the  informer,  and  the  other  half 
 to  %e  paid  to  the  common  school  fund. 
 
 Sec.  7.  The  inspectors  are  hereby  empowered,  if 
 necessary  to  the  convenient  despatch  of  their  respective 
 duties,  to  appoint  competent  deputies,  empowered  to 
 perform  the  duties  of  inspector,  and  for  whom  they  shall 
 and  are  hereby  made  respectively  responsible  and  ac- 
 countable. 
 
 Sec.  8.  Every  person  appointed  inspector,  shall 
 before  he  enters  upon  the  duties  of  his  office  obtain  a 
 certificate  of  competency  from  the  professor  of  chemistry 
 at  the  University  of  the   State  of  Missouri,  and  take  an 
 
62  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 oath  or  affirmation  to  support  the  Constitution  of  this 
 State,  and  of  the  United  States,  and  to  perform  the  duties 
 of  his  office  with  fidelity;  he  shall  also  execute  a  good 
 and  sufficient  bond  to  the  State  of  Missouri,  in  such  sum 
 and  with  such  securities  as  shall  be  approved  by  the 
 mayor  of  such  city,  conditioned  for  the  faithful  perform- 
 ance of  the  duties  herein  imposed  on  him,  which  bond 
 shall  be  for  the  use  of  all  persons  aggrieved  by  the  acts 
 or  neglects  of  such  inspector  or  his  deputy. 
 
 Sec.  9.  The  term  of  office  of  inspector  shall  be 
 for  one  year,  and  for  his  compensation  he  shall  be  enti- 
 tled to  demand  and  receive  from  the  owner  of  the  illum- 
 inating oils  or  fluids  tested,  and  marked  and  branded  as 
 in  this  act  provided,  twelve  cents  for  each  barrel,  and 
 six  cents  for  each  smaller  package. 
 
 Sec.  10.  The  respective  inspectors  appointed  un- 
 der this  act,  shall  keep  a  correct  record  of  all  illuminat- 
 ing oils  or  fluids  inspected,  in  a  book  to  be  furnished  by 
 the  city  authorities  of  such  city,  and  which  shall  be  open 
 to  inspection  by  all  persons  interested,  and  report  annu- 
 ally to  the  governor  the  number  of  barrels  and  smaller 
 packages  inspected,  and  quarterly  to  the  mayor  of  the 
 city  for  which  he  is  inspector. 
 
 Sec.  11.  No  inspector  nor  deputy  inspector  shall, 
 while  in  office,  be  interested  directly  or  indirectly  in  the 
 manufacture  or  vending  of  any  of  the  said  illuminating 
 oils  or  fluids,  to  be  inspected  under  this  act,  nor  shall  he 
 for  the  purpose  of  testing,  take  away  or  appropriate  any 
 part  of  said  illuminating  oils  or  fluids  to  his  own  use,  or 
 for  the  use  of  any  other  person,  under  penalty  of  five 
 hundred  dollars,  to  be  recovered  by  an  indictment  or  in- 
 formation, in  the  manner  provided  for  in  section  five  of 
 this  act. 
 
 Sec.  12.  The  apparatus  to  be  employed  in  this 
 test  shall  consist  of  an  outer  vessel  of  metal  to  contain 
 water,  about  four  inches  in  diameter  and  four  inches 
 deep,  so  contrived  that  some  source  of  heat,  such  as  a 
 spirit  lamp  or  gas  burner,  can  be  applied  to  it  to  heat 
 the  water  which  it  contains;  an  inner  vessel  of  thin  metal 
 to  contain  the  petroleum  to  be  tested,  about  two  inches 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  68 
 
 in  diameter  and  two  inches  deep,  provided  with  an  ex- 
 ternal rim  or  flange,  above  which  the  edge  of  the  vessel 
 shall  rise  about  one- fourth  of  an  inch,  and  by  which  it 
 may  be  supported  in  the  outer  vessel,  so  that  its  contents 
 may  be  heated  through  the  medium  of  the  water;  a 
 Fahrenheit  thermometer,  with  a  spherical  bulb,  in  the 
 scale  of  which  ten  degrees  shall  occupy  at  least  half  an 
 inch  in  length.  In  making  the  experiment  with  this  ap- 
 paratus, the  inner  vessel  shall  be  filled  with  the  petrole- 
 um to  be  tested,  but  care  must  be  taken  that  the  liquid 
 does  not  cover  the  flat  rim;  the  outer  vessel  shall  be  fill- 
 ed with  cold  or  nearly  cold  water,  a  small  flame  shall  be 
 applied  to  the  bottom  of  the  outer  vessel,  and  the 'ther- 
 mometer shall  be  inserted  in  the  oil  so  that  the  bulb  shall 
 be  covered  by  the  petroleum  ;  when  heat  has  been  applied 
 to  the  water  until  the  thermometer  has  risen  to  about 
 ninety  degrees  Fahrenheit,  a  very  small  flame  shall  be 
 quickly  passed  across  the  surface  of  the  oil,  taking  care 
 however  that  the  flame  shall  not  touch  the  oil;  if  the 
 vapor  be  not  ignited,  that  is,  if  no  pale  blue  flash  or 
 flicker  of  light  be  produced,  the  application  of  the  light 
 shall  be  repeated  at  about  every  two  degrees  of  increase 
 of  temperature,  until  the  flash  of  the  ignited  vapor  can 
 be  seen,  and  the  tempei-ature  at  which  this  first  takes 
 place  is  the  temperature  at  which  the  sample  of  petrole- 
 um gives  off  an  inflammable  vapor,  and  shall  be  marked 
 upon  the  package,  tested  as  the  flashing  point  of  such  oil 
 or  fluid  tested. 
 
 Sec.  13.  Whenever  any  vacancy  occurs  under  this 
 act  by  death,  resignation,  removal  from  office  or  other- 
 wise, the  mayor  of  the  city  where  the  vacancy  happens, 
 shall  immediately  certify  the  same  to  the  governor,  who 
 shall  appoint  and  commission  his  successor,  for  the  re- 
 mainder of  the  term  of  office  as  herein  provided,  and  in 
 all  cases  where  any  inspector  shall  be  charged  by  indict- 
 ment or  information,  for  a  violation  of  the  duties  of  his 
 office  as  herein  before  provided,  the  governor  may  sus- 
 pend him  from  the  duties  of  his  office,  and  appoint 
 another  one  to  fill  such  vacancy  during  the  time  such 
 inspector  shall  remain  suspended. 
 
 Sec.    14.     All  acts,  amendments  and  parts  of  acts  in 
 
64  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 relation  to  the   inspection  of  coal  oil  and  petrolenm  oils 
 are  hereby  repealed. 
 
 Sec.  15.  The  necessity  of  an  immediate  change  in 
 the  law,  there  being  none  now  in  force,  whereby  delin- 
 quent inspectors  can  be  removed,  is  hereby  declared  an 
 emergency,  and  this  act  shall  take  effect  and  be  in  force 
 from  and  after  its  passage. 
 
EVOLUTION   AND  CREATION. 
 
 By  George  C.  Swallow,  M.  D.,  LL.  D.,  Professor 
 of  Agriculture  and  of  Natural  History,  \ni> 
 Dean  of  the  Agricultural  Faculty. 
 
 Three  hundred  and  eighty-six  years  ago  the  third 
 day  of  last  August,  there  was  a  grand  Gala  Day  at  Palos 
 ih  Spain.  By  the  wishes  of ■  the  good  Queen  Isabella, 
 the  courts  of  Castile  and  Arragon  and  the  dignitaries  of 
 the  Catholic  Church,  were  assembled  in  that  goodly  city 
 to  pronounce  a  benediction  upon  Columbus  and  his  three 
 small  ships,  which  that  day  sailed  from  t his  renowned 
 port.  These  poor  pinnaces,  unseaworthv,  badly  man- 
 ned and  poorly  equipped,  turned  their  prows  boldly  out 
 into  the  broad  Atlantic,  and  for  seventy-one  days  held 
 their  way  into  the  vast  expanse  towards  the  setting  sun, 
 in  search  of  the  rich  Cathay.  As- day  after  day  passed 
 by  and  favoring  winds  and  currents  bore  them  on  and 
 on,  into  the  vast  unknown,  a  superstitious  fear  settled 
 down  like  a  pall  upon  the  ignorant  sailors.  They  be- 
 lieved the  earth  a  broad  expanse,  bounded  by  precipitous 
 edges.  They  saw  in  their  fears  the  trade  Winds  and  the 
 equatorial  currents  bearing  them  steadily  on  to  the  fatal 
 verge,  over  which  they  would  plunge  down  and  down 
 into  the  fathomless  abyss  below. 
 
 But  Columbus  believed  the  earth  a  globe,  and   that 
 he  would   find  the   east   tinder  the  setting  sun!     The 
 
66  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 fearful  sailors  counselled  a  return  before  it  would  be  for- 
 ever too  late.  Columbus  with  sublime  faith  in  God  and 
 science,  held  a  steady  helm,  and  kept  his  course.  The 
 sailors  plotted  mutiny  and  threatened  violence;  but  the 
 intrepid  leader  kept  his  undeviating  way,  and  on  the 
 morning  of  the  twelfth  day  of  October,  planted  the  ban- 
 ner of  Spain  and  the  Church  on  San  Salvador. 
 
 Thus  ended  the  first  great  conflict  between  modern 
 science  and  the  church.  The  church  taught  that  tbe 
 earth  is  a  broad  expanse  of  land  and  water:  but  the 
 dawnings  of  science  declared  it  a  globe.  Columbus  be- 
 lieved the  science  and  conceived  the  idea  of  reaching 
 China  and  the  Indies  by  the  west.  He  spent  ten  years 
 in  trying  to  persuade  the  monarchs  of  western  Europe 
 to  furnish  means  for  the  voyage.  But  their  Catholic- 
 majesties  disbelieved  his  science  and  doubted  his  ability 
 to  solve  the  geographical  paradox  of  finding  the  cast  in 
 the  west. 
 
 But  the  good  Queen  Isabella  gave  him  the  ships 
 and  the  doubting  prayers  of  the  church  for  his  success 
 and  safe  return. 
 
 His  failure  to  find  China  became  a  grand  success 
 in  finding  America.  It  was  a  splendid  triumph  for  both 
 science  and  the  church;  as  it  gave  a  new  continent  to 
 the  church  for  its  victories,  and  to  science  for  its  wonder- 
 ful discoveries. 
 
 This  conflict  involved  no  important  religious  truth: 
 but  there,  is  another  conflict  between  some  scientists  and 
 the  church,  now  waged  with  unparalleled  ability  and 
 zeal  all  over  the  civilized  world.  In  it  are  involved 
 some  of  tiic  vital  truths  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  in- 
 deed, of  all  religions.  It  involves  no  less  a  question 
 than  the  origin  of  man — whether  he  descended  from  a 
 created  Adam,  or  whether  he  must  trace    his  ancestn 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROJF.  SWALLOW.  67 
 
 back  through  a  countless  series   of  animals  to  an  infini- 
 tesimal speck  of  self-evolved  sarcode. 
 
 The  one  is  the  teaching  of  the  Bible,  the  other  is 
 the  Theory  of  Evolution.  The  one  is  the  teaching  of 
 God's  word;  the  other  claims  to-  he  the  indication  of 
 God's  works.  But  the  word  and  the  works  of  the  Cre- 
 ator must  agree.  If  they  do  not  agree  in  both  appear- 
 ance and  reality,  it  is  because  we  do  not  interpret  the 
 one  or  the  other  aright. 
 
 Some  appear  to  think  that  this  disagreement  be- 
 tween some  scientists  and  theologians  is  fatal  to  both 
 science  and  religion;  but  they  should  remember  that  the 
 expounder^  of  natural  laws  and  christian  teachers  are 
 alike  fallible  men;  that  they  often  do  make  mistakes  in 
 their  expositions  of  natural  and  revealed  truths.  We 
 might  illustrate  our  ignorance: 
 
 An  ocean  steamer  is  a  little  world  in  itself.  The 
 owner  provides  the  power  for  running  the  steamer  and 
 all  things  needful  for  the  comfort  and  safety  of  the  pas- 
 sengers. Two  philosophic  flies  happen  on  one  of  these 
 steamer-.  They  determine  to  investigate  its  nature  and 
 laws.  One  fly  goes  down  into  the  engine  room  and 
 finds  the  water  hot  and  vapory.  The  other  fly  investi- 
 gates the  dining  table  and  finds  the  water  cold  and  icy. 
 There  comes  a  grand  conclave  of  the  fly  people;  and  the 
 two  investigators  big  with  the  magnitude  of  their  dis- 
 coveries, come  from  the  antipodes  of  the  ship-world  and 
 report.  One  reports  his  discovery  of  water  cold  as  ice 
 which  the  people  drink;  and  the  other  reports  his  dis- 
 covery of  water  as  hot  as  fire,  which  makes  the  steam 
 to  propel  the  ship. 
 
 The  first   positive   in  the  fullness  ot  his  knowledge 
 
 loftily  condemns  the  discoveries  of  his  fellow-worker  as 
 
 k  heresy,  fraught  with  the  most   fearful  consequences 
 
«8 
 
 UN'IVKKSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 to  the  whole  race.  For,  said  lie,  if  we  drink  his  boiling 
 water,  it  will  kill  us  all.  The  other  replies  with  equal 
 zeal  and  assurance,  that  the  teachings  of  his  co-worker 
 are  mere  superstitious  dogmas,  fit  only  for  the  ignorant 
 and  the-  vulgar.  For,  if  water  were  cold  it  would  make 
 no  steam,  the  ship  would  stop  in  mid  ocean  and  involve 
 all  in  universal  ruin. 
 
 The  Hies  take  sicks.  The  cold  water  flics  and  the 
 hot  water flies  wage  a  bitter  contest,  until  some  observe! 
 sees  the  water  poured  into  the  tea  kettle  cold  and  come 
 out  kot,  and  reports  the  fact  that  water  may  be  both  cold 
 and  hot.  This  proves  both  parties  right  ancj  both 
 wrong — both  right  in  the  facts  reported,  and  both  wrong 
 in  the  conclusions  drawn  from  an  imperfect  knowledge 
 of  water. 
 
 Thus  we  might  expect  ignorant  flies  to  differ  about 
 the  nature  and  functions  of  the  outfit  of  a  steamer.  No 
 less  should  we  expect  ignorant  men  to  differ  about  the 
 moral  and  physical  laws  of  the  universe. 
 
 Some  men  seem  to  think  a  difference  of  opinion  in- 
 volves a  criminal  negled  of  truth  and  duty;  that 
 scientists,  who  announce  truths  or  theories  apparently 
 conflicting  with  the  interpretations  of  revelation,  are 
 heretical  and  pestiferous,  inimical  to  the  cause  of  truth 
 and  Christianity.  I>ut  it  is  a  remarkable  'act  that  a 
 larger  part  of  the  scientists  thus  condemned  as  hostile  to 
 the  church,  have  keen  its  devoted  members;  and  man) 
 of  the  facts  so  vigorously  condemned,  'nave  been  accepted 
 as  true  1>\  the  church  itself.  Among  these  may  lie  men- 
 tioned the  astronomical  theories  of  Galileo  and  Coperni- 
 cus, and  the  geological  conclusions  of  C'onvbcare  and 
 Murchison,  as  to  the  age  of  the  earth. 
 
 The  theories  thus    tar    condemned    have    done    very 
 little    injury    to    science    or    religion.      A    difference     of 
 
LECTURE  OF   PROF.  3W.VLt.OW.  69 
 
 opinion  among  the  flies,  could  scarcely  retard  the  pro- 
 gress of  an  ocean  steamer;  so  the  theories  of  men  will 
 scarcely  mar  the  progress  of  nature  or  the  faith  of  men. 
 
 Tyndall's  denial  of  the  efficacy  of  prayer,  has  scarce- 
 ly checked  a  father's  care,  or  lessened  the  number  of 
 devout  worshipers.  Every  christian  must  feel  for  him 
 as  for  an  orphan,  who  knows  no  father's  listening  ear. 
 And  every  one  can  but  pity  a  man,  whose  sublime  im- 
 pudence permits  him  to  tell  the  hundreds  of  millions 
 who  know  their  prayers  are  answered,  that  they  are  de- 
 ceiving themselves  and  bearing  false  testimony  to  their 
 fellow-men. 
 
 So  every  scholarly  christian  must  blush  with  shame 
 when  he  hears  our  christian  teachers  confound  the  creat- 
 ing and  makitio-  of  the  glorious  Mosaic  Cosmos,  or  in 
 any  way  violating  the  acknowledged  teachings  of  science 
 and  revelation. 
 
 HISTORY     ()!       EVOLUTION". 
 
 But  "Development"  which  you  invite  me  to  dis- 
 cuss, is  no  matter  of  recent  origin;  nor  did  it  come  fully 
 developed  like  Minerva,  all  armed  from  Jupiter's  brain. 
 It  has  come  in  fragments  from  the  brains  of  sundry  spec- 
 ulators along  the  ages  of  the  last  three  thousand  years. 
 But  it  was  left  for  modern  scientists  to  weave  the  parts 
 into  that  ingenious  s\  stem  called  Evolution  or  Develop- 
 ment. 
 
 A  history  of  the  origiirand  progress  of  the  various 
 parts,  would  be  instructive;  but  it  would  consume  my 
 hour.  I  can  only  glance  at  the  origin  of  some  of  the 
 most  salient  features. 
 
 Epicurus,  so  far  as  I  knowj  gave  the  Hist  distinct 
 declaration  of  the  spontaneous  generation  of  animals 
 from  the  dust  of  the  earth.  This  Grecian  philosopher 
 taught   that    the    primitive    earth,    rich    and  nitrous   and 
 
70  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 warmed  by  the  sun,  was  soon   covered   with  plants,  and 
 that  animals  sprang  spontaneous  from  the  fat  soil. 
 
 About  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  M.  Maillet 
 published  a  philosophic  romance,  in  which  he  made  the 
 ocean  the  source  of  the  lower  order-  of  organic  beings; 
 and  when  the  land  appeared  in  the  primeval  ocean,  these 
 lower  forms  of  plants  and  animals  came  trooping  up 
 from  the  teeming-  seas  to  populate  the  inviting  shores. 
 Flying  fish  became  birds  and  creeping  things,  four-foot- 
 ed beasts;  and  some  imaginary  monsters,  mermaids  per- 
 haps, became  men. 
 
 In  this  author,  we  have  the  distinct  transmutation 
 of  species  announced  in  a  form  but  slightly  more  reason- 
 able than  that  in  the  fable  of  Deucalion.  The  change  of 
 fish  into  birds  is  a  little  more  plausible  than  that  of  stones 
 into  men. 
 
 At  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  M.  La- 
 marck and  other  French  savans  reasserted  the  theory  of 
 development  and  the  transmutation  of  the  lower  animals 
 into  the  higher,  until  all  were  produced  by  natural  laws, 
 without  a  Creator  to  give  the  vital  spark  and  inspire  the 
 moral  and  religious  nature  of  man. 
 
 But  towards  the  middle  of  this  century,  The  Vesti- 
 ges of  Creation  appeared  in  England.  In  this  famous 
 work,  the  ingenious  author  combined  the  Nebular 
 Theory  of  La  Place,  by  which  the  Heavenly  bodies 
 were  evolved  out  of  the  primeval  star-dust ;  the  spon- 
 taneous generation  of  Epicurus,  by  which  the  world 
 was  peopled  with  plants  and  animals;  and  the  Evolu- 
 tion of  Maillet,  by  which  the  simple  animals,  that 
 sprang  like  mushrooms  from  the  fat  primal  earth,  were 
 developed  into  the  higher  and  higher  orders,  until  the 
 monkey  becomes  the  man. 
 
 And  all  these  wonderful  miracles,  these   suspensions 
 
LKCTUKE   OP    PROF.  SWALLOW.  71 
 
 and  violations  of  laws,  are  accomplished  by  the  laws 
 themselves — by  the  powers  of  matter  inherent  in  the 
 primordial  star-dust. 
 
 These  remarkable  departures  from  the  usual  stand- 
 ards of  doctrine  in  both  the  scientific  and  religious 
 worlds,  were  so  great  and  startling  as  to  attract  univer- 
 sal attention  and  to  awaken  much  solicitude  for  the  sta- 
 bility of  those  opinions,  upon  which  had  been  based  the 
 world's  progress  in  letters,  philosophy,  science  and  re- 
 ligion. Mankind  had  believed  there  could  be  no  begin- 
 ning or  change  of  existence  without  an  adequate  cause. 
 And  yet  this  Hypothesis  of  Development  asks  us  to  be- 
 lieve in  a  Nebulous  matter  or  star-dust,  which  filled  all 
 space,  condensed  around  certain  centres,  assumed  a  rota- 
 ry motion,  and  from  time  to  time  threw  off  masses, 
 which  became  systems,  planets  and  satellites;  that  our 
 planet  was  pregnant  with  spontaneous  life;  that  sea- 
 weed covered  all  the  shores  with  gaudy  colors;  that 
 myriads  at  Protozoans  swarmed  in  all  the  waters,  and 
 countless  Polvps  reared  their  coral  cities  in  all  the  shal- 
 low seas;  that  when  the  first  dry  land  appeared,  the  first 
 of  living  things  came  swarming  out  upon  the  welcome 
 shore  and  were  transformed  as  each  most  desired  into 
 creeping  things,  the  beasts  of  the  field,  the  birds  of  the 
 air.  and  even  into  man  himself;  and  that  all  these  won- 
 derful creations  and  transformations  came  with  no  crea- 
 tive power  and  no  power  to  rule,  save,  what  was  inhe- 
 rent in  the  original  star-dust. 
 
 But  the  Vestiges  contained  a  formidable  array  of 
 facts  and  fiction,  science  and  philosophy,  reason  and 
 sophistry,  to  sustain  its  strange  theories.  The  discussions 
 which  this  work  called  out,  were  exceedingly  able  and 
 so  fully  sustained  the  old  standards  of  thought  and  reason 
 that  scientific  men   continued   to   believe   in  the  creation 
 
72  UNIVERSITY    OK    MISSOURI. 
 
 and  immutability  of  species,  and  the  church-men  in  the 
 
 Creator  and  the  Genesis  of  Moses. 
 
 Some  ten  years  later  Mr.  Charles  Darwin  publish- 
 ed The  Theory  of  J5vofo*ton,  somewhat  modified.  He 
 adopts  the  idea  of  Oken,  that  the  first  and  lowest  forms 
 of  animals  were  created;  and  from  these  simple  primary 
 animals,  mere  jelly-specks,  all  the  higher  orders  were 
 developed  by  natural  selection  and  the  .survival  of  the 
 ft  test  in  the  struggle  for  life. 
 
 Mr.  Darwin  has  collected  a  vast  array  of  fact--  from 
 all  departments  of  nature  to  illustrate  his  Hypothesis. 
 He  presents  the  facts  and  arguments  with  great  fairness 
 and  ability.  Still  he  does  not  appear  to  feel  his  theory 
 proved;  hut  that  the  facts  which  sustain  it,  far  out-weigh 
 those  which  condemn   it. 
 
 Many,  especially  English  and  Americn  scientists, 
 who  rejected  the  theory  of  Lamarck  and  the  Vestiges, 
 accept  it  as  modified  by  Mr.  Darwin,  admitting  the  cre- 
 ation of  the  primordial  animals.  But  the  French  more 
 generally  reject  it.  It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  many 
 nominal  Darwinians  not  only  accept  the  theory  of 
 their  great  leader,  but  also  the  entire  unadulterated  sys- 
 tem of  the  Vestiges. 
 
 There  are  other  singular  facts  in  this  connection. 
 While  the  young  Zoologists  and  Botanists  of  America 
 accept  the  theory  in  its  extreme  form,  the  older  Geolo- 
 gists reject  it,  while  the  advocates  of  the  theory  appeal 
 to  the  vast  cycles  of  the  geological  record  for  proof,  the 
 Geologists  themselves  fail  to  find  any  real  proof  in  that 
 record;  while  Tyndall  and  Proctor,  who  know  but  lit- 
 tle of  plants  ami  animals  and  geology,  accept  develop- 
 ment, Agazziz  and  Dawson  and  Hall,  the  first  of  all 
 naturalists  especially  in  the  departments  upon  which  this 
 theory  r?sts,  wholly  reject    it. 
 
LKGTUKE   Of    I'ROK.    SWALLOW.  78 
 
 Having  stated  this  epitome  ot  the  history  and  pres- 
 ent status  of  the  Development  Theory,  I  propose  to  ex- 
 amine very  briefly  some  of  the  arguments  by  which  it 
 is  sustained,  and  to  present  a  few  of  the  objections  to  it; 
 and  to  do  this  from  a  purely  scientific  standpoint.  It 
 must  be  borne  in  mind  that  science  accepts  no  theory  as 
 proved,  until  it  is  shown  to  be  in  perfect  accord  with  all 
 important  known  facts  of  science. 
 
 Whatever  may  be  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Darwin  or 
 any  other  individual,  the  real  question  at  issue  in  this 
 whole  discussion,  according  to  Drs.  Sebastian  and 
 Child,  Prof.  Iiaskel  and  Mr.  Herbert  .Spencer,  and  Mr. 
 Huxley,  is  whether  all  organic  beings,  all  plants  and  all 
 animals  have  been  produced  by  the  laws  of  nature  with- 
 out any  supernatural  creative  power. 
 
 In  this  are  involved   two  distinct  questions: 
 
 ist.  Whence  came  the  first  plant  and  the  first  ani- 
 mal? Epicurus  says  by  the  spontaneous  generation  of 
 the  earth.  Evolution  also  says,  by  spontaneous  genera- 
 tion.    But  Moses  says,  by  creation. 
 
 2nd.  Whence  came  the  first  plant  and  the  first  an- 
 imal of  each  species?  (There  must  have  been  a  first  dog 
 and  a  first  horse  and  a  first  man  as  well  as  a  first  of  all 
 animals.)  Evolution  says,  by  natural  selection  and  the 
 survival  of  the  fittest.     But  Moses  says,  by  creation. 
 
 Let  us  examine  what  science  says  on  the  spontane- 
 ous generation  of  organic  beings  and  the  evolution  of 
 species,  by  reviewing  the  leading  arguments  adduced  to 
 prove  these  hypotheses. 
 
 SPONTANEOUS     GENERATION. 
 
 Many  who  believe  in  the  spontaneous  generation  of 
 animals,  have  been  experimenting  for  many  years  to 
 prove  the  theory. 
 
 Some  thirty   years   ago,  one   Dr.   Crosse   announced 
 
74  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 his  success;  that  he  had  evolved  new  animals  by  passing 
 a  galvanic  current  through  certain  solutions.  These 
 minute  beings  were  all  alike,  and  were  named  Acarus 
 Crossii  in  honor  of  their  creator.  But  alas!  for  human 
 hopes!  Mr.  Crosse  exhibited  his  experiment;  and  the 
 little  mites  came  trooping  up  the  wires  from  the  produc- 
 tive solution.  But  an  observer  recognized  them  as  old 
 acquaintances — they  were  the  well  known  little  spiders, 
 Acarus  horidus!  and  Dr.  Crosse  was  compelled  to  step 
 down  from  the  high  throne  of  a  creator  to  the  very 
 humble  seat  of   a  hatcher  of  spider's  eggs. 
 
 Several  other  experimenters  have  supposed  they 
 had  succeeded  in  this  new  line  of  creation;  but  careful 
 investigation  has  clearly  proved  that  they  had  merely 
 warmed  into  life  the  germs  of  pre-existing  organisms. 
 
 So  far  then  as  science  speaks  at  all  on  this  subject, 
 it  says  there  is  no  such  thing  as  spontaneous  generation 
 of  organic  beings,  and  sustains  Harvey,  that  all  living 
 things  came  from  germs  or  eggs,  the  products  of  parent- 
 al beings — "Om?te  vivum  ex  ovo" 
 
 Since  then  science  has  settled  this  question  ot  spon- 
 taneous generation  against  Epicurus  and  Lamarck, 
 Crosse  and  their  followers,  it  only  remains  to  inquire 
 how  far  science  sustains  the  evolution  of  one  species 
 from  another. 
 
 EVOLUTION. 
 
 Various  arguments  are  advanced  to  prove  that  Evo- 
 lution is  the  source  of  the  higher  orders  of  animals  and 
 plants.  These  arguments  claim  our  careful  attention,  as 
 upon  the  issues  depend  many  opinions  which  mankind 
 have  held  as  sacred  as  household  gods. 
 
 I.       BY     HYBRIDISM    OR    THE    PRODUCTION    OF     HYBRIDS. 
 
 It  is  claimed  that  HyDrids,  as  the  mule  from  the  ass 
 
LECTURK   OF    PROP.  SWALLOW.  75 
 
 and  the  horse,  become  distinct  species;  and  that  the 
 higher  orders  were  thus  produced  by  natural  laws  only. 
 
 It  is  well  established  that  mules  or  Hybrids,  are 
 sometimes  produced  in  both  the  animal  and  vegetable 
 kingdoms;  and  that  Hybrids  are  like  both  parents  in 
 some  respects  and  unlike  both  in  others. 
 
 But  there  are  many  very  serious  objections  to  Hy- 
 bridism as  a  mode  of  developing  new  and  higher  species 
 of  animals. 
 
 i.  There  are  few  if  any  instances  in  which  Hy- 
 brids are  capable  of  perpetuating  themselves.  All  the 
 skill  and  science  of  men,  incited  by  the  hope  of  boundless 
 gain,  and  aided  by  the  resources  of  nations,  have  been 
 exerted  in  vain  to  produce  a  fertile  mule.  Man  has  ex- 
 hausted all  his  resources  for  these  thousand  years;  he 
 has  brought  to  his  aid  all  the  relatives  of  the  eepiinc 
 family — the  Zebra  and  Quagga  from  the  wilds  of  Africa 
 and  the  Hemionus  from  the  steppes  of  Asia,  to  aid  his 
 grand  work  in  producing  a  fertile  equine  Hybrid.  But 
 all  in  vain.  All  the  Hybrids  prove  barren  inter  se, 
 The  integrity  of  species  is  sustained — the  creative  feat 
 stands  vindicated. 
 
 2.  The  Hybrid  is  sometimes  fertile  with  one  or 
 both  parent  species;  but  in  all  such  cases  the  progeny 
 looses  the  characteristics  of  the  Hybrid  and  returns  to 
 one  or  the  other  of  the  original  species,  thus  barring  all 
 hope  of  a  new  species  from  such  Hybrids. 
 
 3.  In  the  vegetable  kingdom,  it  is  well  established, 
 though  disputed  by  some,  that  Hybrids  may  be  fertile. 
 But  it  is  clearly  shown  that  the  progeny  of  the  Hybrid 
 returns  to  one  or  the  other  of  the  parent  species;  as 
 proved  by  the  seedlings  of  the  famous  Bartram  Oak, 
 from  which  it  was  expected  a  new  species  would  be  es- 
 tablished. 
 
76  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 4.  It  is  admitted  by  all  that  Hybrids  seldom  occur 
 in  nature;  that  nearly  all  well  established  eases,  have 
 been  produced  in  the  domestic  state  and  by  conditions 
 forced  upon  the  parents  by  the  power  and  art  of  man. 
 Such  is  the  want  of  sympathy  between  different  species 
 in  the  state  of  nature  as  to  preclude  the  production  ot 
 Hybrids  under  all  ordinary  circumstances  of  natural  an- 
 imal life. 
 
 5.  Tf  the  500.000  species  of  animals  have  been  pro- 
 duced by  Hybridizing  a  few  of  the  primitive  species, 
 nearly  or  quite  all  of  them  must  have  been  produced  in 
 a  state  of  nature;  since  they  are  older  than  man,  or  at 
 least  contemporary  with  him,  and  could  not  have  been 
 produced  by  his  aid. 
 
 6.  Hybrids  partake  of  the  nature  of  both  parents. 
 Thej'  are  seldom  higher  or  lower  than  the  average  of 
 the  two  ancestral  species.  No  Hybrid  has  shown  the 
 characteristics  of  a  higher  species  or  order.  If  then  it 
 were  even  proved  that  Hybrids  form  new  and  perma- 
 nent species,  the  higher  orders  could  not  have  been  thus 
 produced  from  the  lower  primordial  species. 
 
 There  are  therefore   no  facts   to  show  it  even    possi 
 ble   to  produce  a  carniverous   Hybrid   from   herbiverous 
 parents,  none   to  show    even   the  remotest   possibility  of 
 producing   a   human    Hybrid   from    any    two   species  ot 
 monkey. 
 
 It  is  claimed  by  many  that  the  various  races  of  dogs 
 were  produced  by  Hybridizing  two  or  more  species  oi 
 native  dog>.  If  so  the  experiment  has  been  a  long  Qne 
 and  under  man's  best  care.  But  it  has  produced  nothing 
 but  dogs;  and  no  one  expects  it  ever  will  produce  any- 
 thing but  dogs. 
 
 II.       BY     NATURAL    SELECTION. 
 
 But  the  most  important  modification  oi   the  Theory 
 
LKOTUKR    OF    PROP.    SWALLOW.  77 
 
 oflEvolution,  is  that  of  Natural  Selection  or  the  survival 
 of  the  fittest. 
 
 By  this  theory  Mr.  Darwin  and  man)-  others  claim, 
 that  the  changes  produced  in  animals  and  plants  by  food, 
 climate  and  other  causes,  are  preserved  and  transmitted 
 when  those  changes  improve  the  animal,  and  give  him 
 greater  fitness  for  the  conditions  of  life  in  which  he  has 
 been  placed;  and  that  those  not  thus  improved  will  be 
 less  able  to  sustain  themselves  and  will  perish  in  the 
 struggle  for  life;  and  thus  by  the  survival  of  the  fittest, 
 animals  will  be  gradually  improved  until  new  species 
 are  formed. 
 
 it  is  claimed  by  this  hypothesis  that  the  progress  of 
 the  species  will  be  constantly  upwards,  so  that  by  this 
 development  continued  through  the  ages  past,  the  low- 
 primeval  species  have  been  changed  into  the  higher  or- 
 ders until  the  jelly-speck  has  become  the  man. 
 
 It  will  be  seen  that  the  grandest  results  are  claimed 
 for  this  species  of  Evolution.  From  it  wc  have  all  the 
 s;oo,ooo  varied  forms,  shapes  and  sizes,  which  swim  in 
 the  water,  fly  in  the  air  and  live  upon  the  land. 
 
 Any  system  or  theory  which  thus  comes  in  to  change 
 the  whole  current  of  thought  in  our  race,  should  come 
 with  <40od  credentials  and  prove  itself  in  perfect  accord 
 with  the  laws  of  nature,  before  it  can  be  admitted  as  s 
 principle,  of  science. 
 
 True  Science  is  cautious  and  conservative;  no  de- 
 fect can  long  escape  its  probe  and  scalpel.  Very  many 
 important  conditions  must  be  fulfilled  before  this  theory 
 can  be  accepted  as  the  origin  of  all  the  higher  organic 
 beings. 
 
 Among  others  it  must  be  clearly  shown  that  the 
 first  animals  were  of  the  lowest  orders;  that  these  were 
 followed  by  those  a  little  higher,  and  these  again  by  oth- 
 
78  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 cr.s  still  higher— up  and  up  b\  minute  gradations  through 
 all  the  thousands  and  thousands  of  stages  to  man,  the 
 highest  in  the  scale. 
 
 But  the  facts  show  no  such  succession.  There  is 
 however  such  an  approximation  to  it,  as  could  give  the 
 casual  observer  a  plausible  basis  for  the  Theory  of  De- 
 velopment. Some  of  the  lowest  animals  did  appear 
 among  the  earliest  forms  of  life;  and  there  was  a  con- 
 tinual introduction  of  higher  types  until  man  completed 
 the  series.  But  when  we  examine  this  succession  in  its 
 details  as  developed  in  the  rock  record  of  all  the  vast 
 geological  cycles,  we  find  thousands  of  stubborn  facts, 
 which  utterly  preclude  the  idea  of  such  a  continuous  and 
 regular  succession  from  the  lowei  to  the  higher  as  the 
 theory  demands. 
 
 A  few  only  of  these  facts  can  be  examined  at  this 
 time. 
 
 1ST,  In  this  rising  development  of  the  animal 
 kingdom,  we  have  five  very  marked  stages  of  progress, 
 each  represented  by  a  sub-kingdom  in  the  classification. 
 In  the  Primordial  strata,  the  very  oldest  rocks  known  to 
 contain  animal  remains,  we  find  Protozoans,  Radiate*, 
 Mollusks  and  Articulates,  representing  four  of  the  live 
 sub-kingdoms;  and  these  four  contain  more  than  nine 
 tenths  of  all  the  animals  that  have  ever  lived. 
 
 If.  therefore.  Development  be  true,  it  made  a  thou- 
 sand fold  more  progress  at  the  very  outset,  when  it  was 
 working  upon  microscopic  mites,  than  it  has  since 
 through  all  the  vast  cycles  of  the  Silurian,  Devonian, 
 Carboniferous,  Reptilian,  Mammalian  and  Human  ages. 
 This  is  scarcely  credible. 
 
 2nd.  The  theory  demands  a  regular  succession 
 from  the  lower  to  the  higher  in  a  continuous  series  both 
 in  time  and  grade.     But  the  facts  show  this  is  not  so  in  a 
 
T.ECTURK    OF    PROK.    SWALLOW.  79 
 
 vast  number  of  cases  scattered  through  the  whole  series 
 from  the  lowest  to  the  highest.  As  an  illustration, 
 Cephalopods,  the  very  highest  order  of  Mollusks  and 
 Trilobites  high  among  the  Articulates,  appeared  among 
 the  first  animals  and  the  first  fishes  were  much  more 
 perfect  than  their  immediate  successors,  and  even  than 
 many  now   living. 
 
 If  the  Armor-bearing  fishes  were  developed  into 
 the  Salachians  which  succeeded  them,  the  progress  must 
 have  been  like  Virgil's  descensus  in  averno,  easy  and 
 downward. 
 
 3RD.  Since  this  theory  depends  upon  the  survival 
 of  the  fittest  in  the  struggle  for  life,  it  made  a  grand 
 mistake  when  it  filled  the  early  seas  with  a  huge  race  of 
 mailed  sharks  and  ganoids,  to  be  the  progenitors  of  the 
 more  perfect  and  wholly  defenceless  Teliosts. 
 
 Science  has  failed  to  show  how  the  Cod  and  Tur- 
 bot  could  be  the  fittest  to  survive  in  the  struggle  for  life 
 with  their  proginators  the  Sharks.  There  are  hundreds 
 of  similar  impossible  successors. 
 
 4.TH.  Many  animals  and  plants  have  had  no  ances- 
 tors and  no  progeny.  Trilobites  had  neither  ancestors 
 nor  posterity.  There  was  no  animal  for  them  to  be  de- 
 veloped from,  and  they  left  none  to  be  developed  into. 
 It  would  take  a  strong  power  to  develop  the  Elephant 
 out  of  any  animal  that  lived  before  him.  The  same  is 
 true  of  whole  races  of  plants;  as  our  deciduous  trees. 
 
 5TH.  The  theory  demands  not  only  that  the  lowest 
 of  any  given  order  should  appear  first,  but  that  the 
 highest  of  the  lower  order  should  be  followed  by  the 
 lowest  of  the  succeeding  higher  order,  family  or  genus. 
 Thus:  if  A,  B,  C  and  D  represent  successive  classes, 
 and  the  numbers  i  and  5  represent  the  different  orders  in 
 these   classes,  the  theory  would   demand    a   regular  sue- 
 
80  UMVKRSITY    OK    MflSSOUKI. 
 
 cession   from    iA   to  5D.     Thus — iA.  2  A,  3 A,  4  A,  >A, 
 
 [•B,  2B,  and  so  on  to  3D.    Btit  in  fact  we  usually  find  the 
 
 lowest  order  of  any  class  preceding  tin'  highest  order  of 
 
 the  lower  cla-s,  thus: 
 
 i.\.  jA,  3A,  4A,  sA, 
 
 rB,  2B,  3B,  4B,  5B, 
 
 iC,  2C,  3C,  +6,  5C, 
 
 it).  2D,  3D,  4D,  5D. 
 
 The  last  arrangement  represents  the  actual  order  of 
 progression  from  class  to  class  in  a  vast  number  of  eases; 
 as   the    transition    from    the  Mollusks  to  the    Articulates. 
 
 The  Devil  fish  is  the  highest  of  the  Mollusks,  and 
 the  Worms  the  lowest  of  the  Articulates.  But  accord- 
 ing to  the  Theory,  the  Devil  fish  should  be  both  lower 
 than  the  Worm  in  the  scale  of  being,  and  prior  to  it  in 
 point  of  time;  whereas  he  is  just  the  contrary  in  both 
 respects.  The  Worms  were  among  the  earliest  animals, 
 and  the  Devil  fish,  among  the  latest.  And  yet  the 
 Devil  fish  must  violate  all  sense  of  propriety  and  all 
 order  of  time  to  make  the  theory  good.  He  must  per- 
 form the  double  miracle  of  transforming  his  magnificent 
 proportions — a  body  as  large  as  a  steamer's  boiler,  and 
 arms  as  long  as  the  jack-stall",  into  a  puny  mud-worm*, 
 who  lived  millions  of  years  before  his  ancestors,  the 
 Devil-fishes,  were  horn. 
 
 So  often  is  this  arrangement  true,  that  h  becomes 
 the  rule  rather  than  the  exception,  and  appears  to  be  an 
 insuperable  objection  to  the  theory. 
 
 Many  of  the  changes  demanded  by  Evolution  are 
 so  supremely  preposterous  as  to  provoke  a  smile  and 
 leave  the  conviction  ot  utter  impossibility.  The  highest 
 Articulate  is  a  tiny  insect,  and  the  first  Vertebrate,  the 
 next  in  order  of  the  grade,  was  a  huge  fish  covered  with 
 a  thick  coat  of  mail.  Could  you  see  the  earliest  fish  ever 
 found  on  this  continent    as   nature   embalmed   him  in  the 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.  SWALLOW.  81 
 
 rocks  of  Indiana,  side  by  side  with  his  insect  ancestor, 
 you  would  think  it  would  require  about  as  much  of  a 
 miracle  to  develop  the  fish  Irom  such  an  ancestor  as  it 
 would  to  make  him  from  the  dust, 
 
 6th.  If  all  plants  and  animals  have  been  born  of 
 development,  there  ought  to  be  some  proof  of  such 
 changes  within  the  5,000  or  6,000  years  of  the  Historical 
 Period.  But  there  is  no  record,  no  proof,  no  claim  that 
 a  single  species  has  been  produced  in  these  long  ages. 
 Some  have  become  extinct;  but  none  have  been  added 
 even  by  man's  aid.  We  are  reminded  of  many  changes 
 producing  varieties;  but  of  none  that  claim  the  distinc- 
 tion and  permanence  of  species.  And  besides,  nearly  all 
 the  important  variations  have  been  produced  by  man  in 
 the  domestic  state. 
 
 The  variations  of  the  domestic  pigeons  are  perhaps 
 the  most  marked,  and  Mr.  Darwin  has  made  them 
 most  prominent.  Still  the  extreme  varieties  are  fertile 
 among  themselves,  and  their  progeny  show  marks  of  the 
 original  stock,  and  a  disposition  to  return  to  the  Rock- 
 Dove. 
 
 We  arc  also  referred  to  the  Berkshire  as  a  great 
 improvement  on  the  wild  boar,  and  the  Spanish  Merino 
 on  the  wild  sheep.  But  there  is  about  as  much  proot 
 that  the  Hydraulic  Ram  is  the  result  of  development  as 
 there  is  that  the  Spanish  Merino  comes  from  a  survival 
 of  the  fittest  in  a  region  populated  with  bears  and  wolves 
 and  hyenas  and  lions. 
 
 But  what  claim  has  the  Berkshire  to  superiority  as 
 the  fittest  to  survive?  Fat.  Yes,  fat  brings  more  dol- 
 lars and  cents!  but  dollars  and  cents  do  not  mark  the 
 scale  of  superiority  among  animals.  If  fat  makes  perfect, 
 then  the  opossum  is  superior  to  the  squirrel,  the  hog  to 
 •the  horse,  and  the  African  to  the  Caucassian. 
 
82  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 ll\  however,  the  Berkshire  is  a  fair  sample  ol  devel- 
 opment, he  should  be  able  to  survive  in  an  open,  struggle 
 for  life  with  his  undeveloped  ancestor.  The  test  is 
 easily  made.  Turn  your  Berkshires  into  the  forest  with 
 the  wild  hogs;  place  them  together  lor  the  struggle  in 
 the  same  arena  where  the  survival  of  the  fittest,  accord- 
 ing to  the  Theory,  has  won  so  many  victories  in  produc- 
 ing so  many  thousand  new  animals.  No  one  can  doubt 
 the  result.  If  the  Berkshire  survives  at  all,  it  is  because 
 he  will  lose  what  makes  him  a  Berkshire,  because  he 
 becomes  a  wild   hog,  as  many  a  fat  pig   has  done  before. 
 
 This  trial  was  made  under  the  most  favoroble  cir- 
 cumstances during  the  late  war.  By  Order  Number  11, 
 Berkshires,  Chester  Whites,  Poland  Chinas,  and  Racers 
 were  turned  out  to  struggle  for  life  in  our  western  coun- 
 ties. A  few  years  after  I  was  surveying  that  country 
 and  saw  many  of  these  hogs  and  their  descendents.  Bui 
 few  indications  of  the  improved  breeds  remained,  and 
 the  younger  specimens  bore  decided  marks  of  lapsing  to 
 the  original  type.  And  this  is  what  we  should  expect 
 from  the  very  laws  of  life. 
 
 There  are  volumes  of  facts  to  show  that  horses, 
 oxen,  dogs  and  hogs,  riming  wild,  gradually  lose  all 
 domestic  variation  and  assume  a  uniformity  of  color,  size, 
 and  structure  supposed  to  be,  and  in  some  cases  known 
 to  be,  like  the  primitive  wild  stocks. 
 
 This  is  clearly  shown  by  the  wild  horses  of  Tarta- 
 ry  and  in  a  less  degree  by  the  wild  horses  of  the  Falk- 
 land Islands  and  South  America,  and  the  semi- wild 
 herds  of  the  North  American  Indians.  The  wild  horses 
 of  America  have  changed  less  as  the)'  have  been  in  a 
 wild  state  a  much  shorter  time. 
 
 But  the  variations  in  domestic  animals  are  much  less 
 
LECTURE   OF    PROF.   SWALLOW.  83 
 
 than  would  be  at  first  thought  supposed.  Those  which 
 are  at  all  marked,  are  confined  to  a  few  species:  while 
 the  others  have  scarcely  changed  at  all  for  many  thou- 
 sand years.  Many  figures  and  embalmed  specimens  of 
 our  domestic  animals  and  plants,  have  come  down  to  us 
 from  the  ancient  nations  of  Mesopotamia  and  Egypt 
 which  shows  that  their  living  descendents  have  made  no 
 material  progress  for  the  last  forty  or  fifty  centuries. 
 We  also  have  still  more  ancient  proofs  of  this  perma- 
 nence of  type  in  the  domestic  animals  and  plants  from 
 the  nuns  of  the  Swiss  Lake  dwellings,  and  the  Danish 
 Shell-heaps,  and  the  Cave-dwellers  of  Central  Europe. 
 
 Should  it  he  even  admitted  that  domestication  has 
 produced  new  species,  the  tact  would  scarcely  make  the 
 evolution  by  natural  selection  possible;  since  there  is  so 
 little  analogy  between  the  possibilities  of  the  domestic 
 and  wild  states.  You  might  as  well  attempt  to  prove 
 that  our  native  Crab-apple  was  developed  from  the  flaw, 
 because  man  can  grow  Bellflowers  on  the  domesticated 
 Siberian  Crab;  as  to  prove  the  horse  was  developed 
 from  the  ass,  because  the  carrier  pigeon  is  the  progeny 
 of  the  wild  Rock-dove. 
 
 This  difference  of  possibilities  between  the  wild  and 
 domestic  state,  is  well  shown  in  the  hog  and  pigeon. 
 Great  as  are  the  changes  produced  in  the  domestic  hog 
 and  pigeon,  it  is  known  that  their  wild  representatives 
 have  made  no  perceptible  changes  since  the  flood,  either 
 by  natural  -election  or  by  the  survival  of  the  fittest. 
 
 If  then  we  would  measure  the  probabilities  of  form- 
 ing new  spCCies  by  natural  selection,  our  illustrations 
 must  come  from  the  natural  or  wild  state;  since  that  is 
 the  only  state  where  natural  selection  can  act,  and  the 
 only  place  where  species-  have  been  formed,  if  formed  at 
 all,  by  natural  powers. 
 
84  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 We  must,  therefore,  held  the  changes  produced  by 
 man  in  domestication,  of  little  value  in  this  discussion. 
 
 yTH.  But  every  one  of  the  numerous  breaks  in  the 
 series  of  animals,  has  a  significance  of  the  highest  value 
 in  this  relation,  since  each  and  every  one  of  them  must 
 prove  fatal  to  evolution.  For  Pope's  couplet  is  em- 
 phatically and  literally  true  here: 
 
 "From  nature's  chain  whatever  link  3011  strike. 
 Tenth  or  tenthousandth,  breaks  the  chain  alike. " 
 
 And  yet  there  are  hundreds  of  thousands  of  these 
 breaks,  missing  links,  impassable  gnlfs,  over  which 
 science  has  found  no  bridge. 
 
 But  it  is  said  the  missing  links  are  buried  in  the 
 Geological  Records.  This  is  a  delusion;  for  Geology  is 
 the  most  unhealthy  place  for  Darwinism  imaginable. 
 
 To  illustrate:  let  us  examine  one  only  of  these  many 
 thousand  breaks  in  the  succession;  and  let  us  take  one 
 with  which  all  are  familiar,  and  one  that  presents  the 
 fewest  difficulties  to  the  progress  of  evolution — the  link 
 between  the  monkey  and  man  in  its  physical  aspects. 
 
 All  admit  there  is  a  break  between  the  man  and  the 
 monkey,  as  they  now  exist,  which  must  be  filled  by  a 
 series  of  beings  gradient  by  small  steps  of  progress  from 
 the  monkey  to  the  man.  These  gradient  beings  must 
 have  been  very  numerous  and  of  too  remarkable  a  char- 
 acter to  be  over  looked  if  now  living,  or  for  their  re- 
 mains to  be  lost,  it  thev  ever  did  live. 
 
 (a.)  It  is  very  remarkable  that  all  these  gradient  an- 
 imals, which  connected  these  two  living  races,  and  by 
 which  the  monkey  was  develojDed  into  man,  should  have 
 utterly  perished.  All  the  gradients,  all  the  links  be- 
 tween the  Carrier  Pigeon  and  the  Tumbler,  and  those 
 between  the  Bull-dog  and  the  Grey-hound,  are  still  liv- 
 
LECTURE    OK    PROF.  SWALLOW.  86 
 
 ing  and  more  numerous  than,  ever  before.  Will  some 
 Darwinian  tell  ns  why  all  of  man's  nearest,  and  best  an- 
 cestors have  become  extinct,  while  the  hundreds  of  thou- 
 sands more  remote  and  less  desirable,  still  live  like  poor 
 relations  to  remind  ns  that  we  are  something  worse  than 
 mortal  ? 
 
 If  these  gradient  animals  between  the  man  and  the 
 monkey  were  fitter  to  live  than  the  monkey,  as  the 
 Theory  of  Evolution  implies,  why  have  they  all  perish- 
 ed while  so  many  monkeys  live? 
 
 (b.)  Men  and  monkeys  have  lived  together  upon  the 
 earth  ever  since  the  origin  of  man,  sometime  in  the  Drift 
 Period,  which  evolutionists  say  was  300,000  years  ago; 
 and  the  monkey  came  into  being  in  the  Eocene,  the 
 dawn  of  the  vast  cycles  of  the  Tertiary.  This  surely 
 gives  us  time  enough  to  test  the  theory. 
 
 The  monkeys  have  left  their  remains,  recording 
 their  history  in  all  the  rocks  of  these  vast  cycles  and  in 
 all  the  continents,  in  Asia,  Africa,  North  and  South 
 America  and  in  Europe.  Their  history  has  been  tolera- 
 bly well  written   up. 
 
 Man  has  lived  in  Europe  since  the  Drift  Period,  in 
 Asia  and  Africa  probably  as  long,  and  in  America  near- 
 ly as  long.  He  lias  buried  his  hones  and  scattered  with 
 free  hand  hi-  implements,  his  carvings,  his  monuments, 
 his  temples,  hi-  dwellings,  his  traditions,  and  his  books 
 all  along  the  ages  ami  all  over  the  world.  From  these 
 abundant  material.-,  man's  history  too  is  pretty  well 
 made  up. 
 
 Man  lias  searched  with  untiring  zeal  for  all  that  is 
 new  and  old;  he  lias  desecrated  tombs  and  temples  to 
 lay  open  their  mysteries;  he  has  exhumed  ancient  cities 
 — Hereulaneum,  Troy  and  Ninevah  give  up  their  hoary 
 records   -he  has,  also,  fished  up  from  the  depths  of  Swiss 
 
86  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 lakes  the  remains  of  their  ancient  Lake  Dwellers;  un- 
 earthed the  Mound-Builders  and  Aztects  of  America; 
 dug  up  I  he  Cave-dwellers  of  Europe;  and  searched  all 
 the  rocks  these  hundred  years;  and  vet  he  has  not  found 
 a  mark  nor  a  fragment  to  show  there  ever  were  any 
 beings  between  the  man  and  the  monkey,  that  man  was 
 ever  any  more  like  a  monkey  than  he  now  is,  or  that 
 the  monkey  was  ever  more  of  a  man  than  now. 
 
 The  embalmed  men  and  monkeys  of  the  Egyptian 
 tombs,  are  the  same  as  the  living  men  and  monkeys,  no 
 nearer  together,  no  farther  apart. 
 
 The  still  more  ancient  traditions  and  mythologies 
 make  the  most  ancient  men  heroes  and  demi-gods,  quite 
 as  perfect  as  we  are. 
 
 Of  the  pre-historic  man,  the  most  ancient  relic  found 
 in  Europe  about  which  there  can  he  no  doubt  or  dispute, 
 is  the  Engis  Skull.  Of  this  skull,  Prof.  Huxley  says: 
 "It  is  a  fail-  human  skull.'" 
 
 The  oldest  skull  found  in  America  about  which 
 there  can  lie  no  question  of  origin,  is  the  New  Madrid 
 skull,  which  is  a  fair  Caucassian  skull.  It  might  have 
 been  of  a  Hebe  or  of  an  Eve. 
 
 We  also  have  ancient  skulls  of  a  lower  type;  but 
 none  lower  than  the  skulls  of  some  living  men. 
 
 The  history  of  the  monkey  shows  that  he  is  no 
 nearer  a  man  now  than  he  was  :ii  the  beginning.  The 
 rocks  show  n<>  intervening  varieties. 
 
 We  must  conclude,  therefore,  that  the  wide  chasm 
 between  the  physical  structure  of  the  man  and  the  mon- 
 key is  not  and  never  has  been  tilled;  and  that  there  is  no 
 evidence  whatever  making  it  physically  possible  to  de- 
 rive  man  from  the  monkey. 
 
 III.       EMBRYOLOGY. 
 
 Hut  one  of  the  most  plausible  arguments  of  the  By- 
 
nFCTURK    OF    PROF.  S\VAIJ,OW.  87 
 
 olutionists,  is  drawn  from  Embryology.  The  embryos 
 of  the  higher  animals  resemble  the  embryos  of  the  lower 
 ones  in  the  early  stages  of  development;  therefore,  the 
 higher  animals  arc  developed  from  the  lower.  As  the 
 embryo  of  a  man  is  like  a  fish  at  one  stage  of  its  devel- 
 opment, so  man  was  developed  from  a  fish. 
 
 But  Agassiz,  who  had  studied  Embryology  more 
 thouroughly  than  any  man  living  or  dead,  said  this  argu- 
 ment had  no  valid  foundation.  No  embryo  has  produced 
 a  being  either  above  or  below  the  parental  species. 
 Prof.  Virchow,  the  best  living  authority,  bears  the  same 
 testimony  as  Agassi/. 
 
 IV.       THE    OKIGTN    <>1      THINGS. 
 
 But  if  all  other  difficulties  were  removed,  it  there 
 were  a  complete  series  of  animals  from  the  lowest  to  the 
 highest — all  having  such  close  affinities  that  each  could 
 be  traced  to  its  ancestral  species,  there  would  still  remain 
 three  insuperable  objections  to  Evolution  as  a  system  of 
 nature. 
 
 rst.  It  does  not  account  for  the  Star-Dust,  the  orig- 
 inal matter  from  which  the  worlds  were  evolved. 
 
 Development  is  the  evolving  of  something  out  of 
 something  else,  or  some  other  thing.  Hence  Develop- 
 ment cannot  evolve  something  out  of  nothing,  or  the 
 original  matter  of  the  worlds  out  of  nothing. 
 
 And,  besides,  Development  acts  by  the  laws  of  na- 
 ture and  by  these  laws  only.  But  these  laws  are  mere 
 properties  of  matter,  inherent  in  and  dependent  upon 
 matter  for  their  powers  of  action,  and  for  their  very  ex- 
 istence. These  laws,  therefore,  or  Development  acting 
 by  them,  cannot  originate  the  matter  of  which  they  are 
 the  mere  properties. 
 
 Science  clearly   indicates   a   first    cause,  which  must 
 
88  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 be  without  and  superior  to  nature.  Science  too  as  such., 
 must  accept  whatever  first  cause  best  meets  and  explains 
 all  facts  and  conditions  of  the  natural  world,  whatever 
 first  cause  is  in  best  accord  with  science  itself,  or  the 
 laws  of  nature . 
 
 Several  theories  of  the  origin  of  the  material  world, 
 have  been  proposed.  But  that  promulgated  more  than 
 35°°  >'ears  ag°  by  one  Moses,  a  learned  Egyptian,  de- 
 clares the  first  cause  to  be  a  supreme  being,  immortal, 
 invisible,  all-wise,  benevolent,  and  the  Creator  of  all 
 things. 
 
 Scientists  have  generally  accepted  the  Mosaic 
 Theory,  as  in  best  accord  with  the  teachings  of  science 
 itself.  It  is  true  that  men  love  to  hear  and  believe  .some- 
 thing new  and  strange;  but  neither  common  sense  nor 
 science  will  give  up  this  theory  of  a  Creator  until  some- 
 thing better  is  proposed.  You  might  as  well  expect  the 
 passengers  of  an  ocean  steamer  to  give  up  their  good 
 ship  in  mid  ocean  and  take  passage  in  a  leaky  skiff,  as  to 
 give  up  the  Mosaic  Creator  for  Evolution. 
 
 2nd.  Evolution  gives  no  solution  of  the  origin  of 
 life  and  the  peculiar  structure  of  Organic  Beings. 
 
 Science  has  clearly  shown  there  was  a  time  when 
 neither  plant  nor  animal  existed  on  the  earth;  when 
 there  was  nothing  but  inorganic  matter,  dust  and   rocks. 
 
 There  were  no  laws  governing  life  and  living  be- 
 ings; for  there  were  no  life  and  living  beings  to  be  gov- 
 erned. 
 
 But  in  the  progress  of  events,  plants  and  animals 
 appeared  upon  the  earth,  and  with  them  the  laws,  such 
 as  digestion  and  assimilation,  which  control  organic  be- 
 ings. 
 
 Several  theories   have  been   proposed  to  account  for 
 
LBCTURE    OF    PROF.    SWALLOW.  85* 
 
 the  origin  of  living  things.  Among  others  we  have  had 
 Spontaneous  Generation,  the  Fortuitous  Concourse  of 
 Atoms,  and  Evolution.  Which  of  these  is  most  plausi- 
 ble, I  am  unable  to  tell.  And  it  would  be  difficult  to 
 say  in  what  they  differ. 
 
 But  none  of  them  are  known  in  nature;  and  science 
 has  as  clearly  proved  them  impossible,  as  it  is  possible  to 
 prove  a  negative,  by  showing  that  all  living  things  come 
 from  eggs  and  that  all  eggs  are  produced  by  living  be- 
 ings. So  certain  arc  we  of  this  that  our  laws  and  juris- 
 prudence are  based  upon  it.  Upon  its  certainty  we  im- 
 prison and  hang  men  and  women.  In  short  we  hold 
 this  scientific  principle  more  sacred  than  we  do  proper- 
 ty, character  and  life  itself. 
 
 How  then  can  we  believe  in  spontaneous  genera- 
 tion? in  the  Evolution  of  animals? 
 
 It  is  quite  certain  that  Evolution  cannot  produce 
 living  things;  for  in  them  we  find  life,  and  new  laws  so 
 strong  as  to  overcome  the  pre-existing  laws.  The  laws 
 which  raise  up  the  oak  and  the  elephant,  overcome  grav- 
 ity and  inertia;  and  those  which  form  sugar,  starch, 
 blood  and  muscle,  overcome  pre-existing  affinities. 
 
 Evolution  can  only  transform,  and  there  was  noth- 
 ing in  nature  to  be  transformed  into  life. 
 
 But  it  is  said  Evolution  works  through  the  laws  of 
 nature.  But  no  facts,  no  science,  has  shown  that  one 
 law  can  produce  another  law  superior  to  itself. 
 
 It  is  therefore  utterly  impossible  for  the  Evolution 
 Theory  to  account  for  the  origin  of  organic  beings,  and 
 the  laws  of  life. 
 
 Here  again,  the  Mosaic  Theory  is  the  only  one  yet 
 proposed,  able  to  solve  this  problem  of  the  origin  of  liv- 
 ing beings.  The  Supreme  Being  of  this  Theory,  has 
 the  power,  the  wisdom  and  benevolence  to  give  the  life 
 
90  UNIVERSITY    OK   MISSOURI. 
 
 and  the  superior  laws  of  organic  beings.  And  there  are 
 no  facts,  no  science,  which  militate  against  this  Theory 
 of  Creation,  though  promulgated  3000  years  before  the 
 rise  of  modern  science. 
 
 If  on  the  morrow,  we  should  lind  new  houses  and 
 cities  springing  up  all  over  our  prairies,  houses  not  made 
 with  hands  or  any  other  known  power;  if  we  should 
 see  the  soil  rise  up  into  the  houses  and  form  itself  into 
 foundation  ashlers  harder  than  adament  and  more  beau- 
 tiful than  rubies;  the  clay  rise  and  form  itself  into  bricks 
 in  the  wall,  more  delicate  than  opal,  and  the  sand  into 
 windows  as  clear  and  sparkling  as  diamonds — all  form- 
 ing houses  more  gorgeous  and  brilliant  than  the  palaces 
 of  the  Arabian  Nights;  if  we  should  see  cars  rolling 
 through  the  mid  heavens  without  track  or  engine,  but 
 self-poised  and  self-impelled,  and  leaving  trails  as  bright 
 as  rainbows;  if  on  the  morrow  we  should  see  for  the 
 first  time  such  wonderful  beings  with  power  to  multiply 
 themselves  indefinitely,  would  we  say  they  had  sprung 
 spontaneous  from  the  earth?  that  they  had  been  produc- 
 ed by  Development?  or  rather,  would  we  not  say  they 
 are  the  work  of  some  supernatural  power?  that  they  are 
 the  creatures  of  the  .Supreme  Being  of  the  Mosaic 
 Theory  ? 
 
 Should  such  new  and  wonderful  beings  appear,  it 
 would  not  he  so  strange  as  the  first  animal-  and  plants 
 were.  Man  might  think  he  could  build  a  house;  but 
 none  save  Drs.  Crosse  and  Sebastian,  would  undertake 
 to  make  the  oak  or  the  elephant. 
 
 3rd.  We  find  in  man,  in  all  men  everywhere,  a 
 strong  mate  apprehension  of  some  external  invisible 
 power,  which,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  moulds  our 
 destinies  and  metes  out  to  us  the  good  and  evil  of  life; 
 whose  anger,  therefore,  all  deprecate  with  sacrifices,  and 
 
LKOTURK   OP    PROF.   SWALLOW.  91 
 
 whose  favor  all  propitiate  with  prayers  and  vows. 
 Some  call  this  universal  clement  of  man's  nature  by  one 
 name,  some  by  another.  Comte  calls  it  Superstition, 
 Virgil,  Piety;  Sir  Humphrey  Davy  and  Dr.  Carpenter 
 call  it  Religion. 
 
 Call  it  what  you  will,  no  animal  but  man  has  it. 
 No  animal  but  man,  has  a  moral  nature,  knows  right 
 from  wrong,  repents,  prays,  sacrifices.  No  monkey  has 
 superstition  or  religion;  no  brute  fears  or  loves  the  un- 
 known powers,  whether  they  be  gods  or  demons. 
 
 Hence  there  is  nothing  in  the  brute  that  can  be  de- 
 veloped into  man's  religious  nature.  You  might  per- 
 haps develop  a  monkey  out  of  his  tail,  and  make  him 
 stand  erect;  his  posterior  hands  may  be  transformed  into 
 those  beautiful  things  concealed  in  No.  2  gaiters;  the 
 teeth  and  facial  angle  changed;  the  diabolical  grin, 
 transformed  into  the  ineffable  smile  of  a  mother's  love; 
 yea,  and  that  tongue,  taught  to  utter  the  words  of  affec- 
 tion, fidelity  and  truth;  while  we  admit  the  possibility, 
 but  not  the  probability  of  these  wonderful  changes,  we 
 most  positively  declare  that  science  has  shown  no  fact, 
 developed  no  principles,  indicating  the  possibility  of  de- 
 riving man's  moral  and  religious  natures  from  any  intel- 
 lectual power  of  any  brute. 
 
 But  the  Theory  of  Moses  recognizes  and  provides 
 for  this  higher  nature  of  man.  "God  breathed  into  his 
 nostrils  the  breath  of  life,  and  man  became  a  living  soul" 
 an  "Image  of  God." 
 
 Thus  Moses  places  man  infinitely  above  all  other 
 animals,  gives  him  a  brotherhood  with  angels,  and  a  son- 
 ship  in  Deity. 
 
 Shall  we  then  give  up  this  Creation  of  Moses, 
 which  thus  elevates  us  and   unites  our  destinies  with  the 
 
92  UNIVKRSITY   OF    MISSOTJKI. 
 
 infinite,  for  this  Evolution  of  Darwin,  that  links  us  to 
 the  worm,  gives  us  a  sonship  in  the  monkey  and  binds 
 us  to  the  beasts  that  perish? 
 
 As  a  christian  student  of  science,  I  protest.  In  the 
 name  of  all  the  splendid  achievements  and  utilities  of 
 science,  in  the  name  of  all  the  grandeur  of  moral  truths 
 and  all  the  sublime  hopes  of  immortality,  I  am  compell- 
 ed to  protest  against  such   a  sale  of  man's  birth-right. 
 
INSECT  WAYS. 
 
 By  Samuel  M.  Tracy,  M.  S.,  Professor  of  En- 
 tomology and  Economic  Botany  and  Superin- 
 tendent of  Gardens. 
 
 In  the  "Poet  at  the  Breakfast  Table"  Oliver  Wen- 
 dell Holmes  tells  us  of  a  man  who  had  devoted  his  whole 
 life  to  the  study  of  one  group  of  insects,  the  Scarabeans, 
 and  the  height  of  whose  ambition  was  to  be  known  to 
 the  world  as  a  Scarabeist,  to  be  an  acknowledged  au- 
 thority on  that  one  family  of  beetles.  Clinging  to  the 
 body  of  the  common  bumble-bee  is  frequently  found  a 
 little  beetle  not  more  than  a  sixteenth  of  an  inch  in 
 length,  and  to  determine  whether  this  insect  was  a  true 
 parasite,  or  simply  attached  itself  to  the  bee  in  order  to 
 be  carried  to  the  nest,  there  to  live  on  the  food  stored  up 
 by  the  bee,  was  a  question  to  which  this  man  had  given 
 the  best  years  of  his  life. 
 
 It  may  be  questioned  whether  it  is  wise  for  a  person 
 to  devote  a  whole  life  to  the  solution  of  a  problem  which 
 is  comparatively  of  so  little  practical  or  scientific  import- 
 ance, but  it  is  undoubtedly  true  that  a  more  intimate  ac- 
 quaintance with  insect  life  andinsect  ways  would  be  of 
 far  more  value  to  us  than  is  usually  estimated,  and  would 
 amply  repay  a  greater  amount  of  study  than  is  generally 
 given  to  other  branches  of  Natural  History. 
 
 The  weather  is  a  universal  topic  of  conversation; 
 not  a  daily  paper  do  we  read  without  seeing  reports  and 
 
94  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 predictions  concerning  the  weather  in  different  parts  of 
 the  country.  The  United  States  government  has  estab- 
 lished stations  at  all  important  places  where  daily  signals 
 are  shown  indicating  the  approach  of  storms  or  of 
 pleasant  weather.  During  the  past  month  the  papers 
 have  been  full  of  reports  of  the  injury  done  to  the 
 fruit  trees  by  the  severe  cold  of  the  past-  winter. 
 Last  summer  there  was  a  universal  cry  of  drouth 
 from  Texas  to  Minnesota,  and  not  a  season  passes 
 in  which  some  portion  of  our  country  is  not  so  del- 
 uged with  rain  as  to  render  travel  almost  impossible 
 and  the  farmer's  labor  fruitless.  Violent  wind  and 
 excessive  rain,  severe  cold  and  long  continued  drouth, 
 notwithstanding  the  fact  that  they  rank  in  popular 
 opinion  as  the  vicegerents  of  the  Almighty  in  fixing 
 upon  man  the  primal  curse,  "By  the  sweat  of  thy  face 
 shalt  thou  eat  bread"  do  not,  even  with  their  combined 
 forces,  entail  upon  us  as  much  labor  and  loss  as  do  the 
 insignificant  and  often  unnoticed  insects  which  are  to  be 
 found  almost  wherever  we  will  take  the  trouble  to  look 
 for  them. 
 
 Were  il  not  for  our  insect  foes  the  products  of  the 
 soil  would  be  nearly  or  quite  doubled  annually.  There  is 
 not  a  crop  to  which  the  farmer  can  devote  his  attention 
 which  is  not  invariably  injured  to  a  greater  or  less  extent 
 by  these  almost  invisible  foes,  and  often  the  greatest  care 
 and  the  most  unremitting  vigilance  cannot  save  his 
 property  from  utter  destruction.  Wheat  suffers  from 
 the  chinch  bug,  the  Hessian  fly  and  the  weevil,  corn  from 
 the  white  grub  and  the  corn  worm,  potatoes  from  the 
 wireworm,  the  potato  beetle  and  the  blister  beetle,  the 
 grape  from  the  phylloxera,  the  apple  from  the  codling 
 moth  and  the  borer,  the  peach  from  the  borer  and  the 
 CUrcullO.  the  latter  of  these  insects  having  made  a  perfect 
 
LECTURE  OF    PROF.  TRACY.  95 
 
 peach  an  unusual  sight  in  some  districts,  besides  taking 
 the  plum  from  the  list  of  our  common  fruits  and  making- 
 it  a  great  rarity.  While  these  and  many  other  injurious 
 insects  confine  themselves  to  certain  plants  which  are 
 their  natural  fond  and  so  may  he  in  a  manner  controlled 
 and  mastered,  we  have  still  to  contend  with  the  army 
 worm  and  the  grasshopper  which  devour  every  green 
 thip.LT  which  grows  in  their  path. 
 
 Is  it  not  then  worth  our  while  to  give  some  time 
 and  attention  to  the  study  of  a  form  of  life  which  exerts 
 such  a  powerful  influence  upon  our  prosperity  as  indi- 
 viduals and  as  a  nation;  Yet  so  limited  is  the  popular 
 information  regarding  insects  that  many  who  suffer  most 
 from  their  ravages  fail  to  recognize  their  enemies  at 
 sight.  Even  the  common  white  grub  worm  of  our  gar- 
 dens is  rarely  known  for  its  true  self,  the  next  summer's 
 June  hug,  and  the  wrigglers  so  abundant  in  stagnant 
 rainwater  and  shallow  ponds  do  not  always  receive  the 
 honors  to  which  the  musical  mosquito  is  justly  entitled. 
 These  are  two  insects  which  are  among  the  most  com- 
 mon, and  with  which  we  all  feel  quite  too  intimately  ac- 
 quainted, yet  close  attention  and  some  knowledge  of 
 scientific  Entomology  is  necessary  to  make  it  easy  to  see 
 the  relation  between  their  early  incompleteness,  and  their 
 later  perfect  development.  We  almost  need  to  see  the 
 shining  beetle  emerging  from  his  underground  home, 
 and  the  mosquito  using  his  discarded  wriggler  shell  as  a 
 support  for  his  new  long  legs  as  he  plumes  his  newlv 
 found  wings  for  his  first  aerial  voyage,  to  he  sure  that 
 the  hooks  are  not  wrong  about  it  after  all. 
 
 For  developing  powers  of  exact  observation,  close 
 watchfulness  and  attention  to  minute  details,  no  branch 
 of  Natural  History  is  more  valuable  than  the  stud}'  of 
 insect  iife  and  ways.     No  where  else  do  we  tind  such  an 
 
96  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 infinitude  of  forms  and  at  f:he  same  time  Mich  a  general 
 conformity  to  a  very  few  leading  types;  nowhere  else 
 do  we  find  organized  beings  passing  through  such  a 
 series  of  what  might  be  called  successive  lives,  and  in 
 each  life  assuming  bodies  varying  so  widely  that  the 
 future  form  can  never  be  predicted  from  the  present  one. 
 
 The  earliest  form  of  insect  life  is  the  same  as  the 
 earliest  form  of  all  other  animal  life,  and  egg,  but  here 
 all  resemblance  ends,  for  the  moment  the  egg  is  hatched 
 the  insect  differs  from  all  other  animals  as  widely  as  does 
 the  bird  from  the  fish. 
 
 The  eggs  of  all  insects  are  minute,  and  the  beings 
 which  are  hatched  from  them  are  correspondingly 
 small.  Usually  the  product  of  the  egg  is  a  small  worm- 
 like creature,  provided  with  a  head  and  mouth  and  six 
 legs  under  the  forward  part  of  its  long  hod  v.  Some- 
 times, but  not  always,  this  worm,  caterpillar,  grub  or 
 larva  is  also  provided  with  eyes,  small  hairlike  feelers, 
 and  several  pairs  of  short  wart-like  legs  to  assist  in  carry- 
 ing the  bulky  hinder  part  of  its  body.  Other  larvae  are 
 destitute  of  either  eyes  or  legs  and  spend  their  whole 
 lives  within  a  few  inches  of  where  they  are  hatched. 
 
 The  one  great  object  in  life  for  the  young  larva 
 seems  to  be  the  same  as  that  of  manv  animals  of  a  much 
 higher  organization— it  lives  to  eat — and  eats,  in  some 
 cases,  as  the  larva  of  the  silk  moth,  more  than  its  own 
 weight  daily.  Such  a  rapid  consumption  of  food  has  a 
 very  natural  tendency  to  an  increase  in  size.  When  we 
 were  children  and  our  arms  grew  to  be  too  long  for  our 
 sleeves  and  our  increasing  girth  proved  too  severe  a 
 strain  on  our  buttons,  parental  care  furnished  us  with 
 larger  clothes — but  the  voracious  larva  when  his  skin  is 
 too  tight  for  his  daily  dinner,  splits  it  in  the  back  and 
 walks  out  clad  in  a  new  garment  grown  to  fit  his  new 
 
LECTURE  OF    PROF.  TRACY.  97 
 
 development,  and  so  much  more  nearly  ready  for  his 
 final  change. 
 
 It  is  during  this  larval  or  wormlike  life  that  by  far 
 the  larger  portion  of  the  total  supply  ot  the  food  for  the 
 insect  is  consumed  and  assimilated.  Indeed  many  insects 
 which,  as  larva?,  ravage  large  tracts  of  country  and  in- 
 flict incalculable  damage  are  perfectly  harmless  when 
 they  reach  their  mature  form,  taking  no  food  excepting 
 perhaps  an  occasional  sip  of  honey  from  the  flower 
 which  happens  to  be  their  resting  place,  and  in  a  few  in- 
 stances being  quite  unprovided  with  any  means  of  tak- 
 ing nourishment.  We  see  this  in  the  army  worm  which 
 sometimes  takes  its  course  over  a  whole  state  destroying 
 everything  in  its  way  as  completely  as  if  the  country 
 had  been  swept  by  fire.  When  this  insect  reaches  its 
 adult  or  perfect  form  it  is  an  innocent  dusky  brown 
 moth,  which  never  causes  the  slightest  harm  to  any 
 plant.  I  may  mention  here  that  although  the  army 
 worm  has  been  known  and  dreaded  ever  since  the  first 
 settlement  of  the  country,  to  this  day  no  man  knoweth 
 whence  they  come  or  whither  they  go.  They  appear  in 
 vast  armies,  devastate  a  track  of  country  and  then  disap- 
 pear as  suddenly  and  mysteriously  as  they  came.  En- 
 tomologists have  captured  the  worms  and  kept  them  in 
 confinement  until  they  passed  through  their  various 
 changes  and  were  transformed  into  moths,  but  with  all 
 the  study  and  watchfulness  which  have  been  devoted  to 
 the  subject  it  is  not  known  when  or  where  the  eggs  are 
 laid  which  produce  these  destroying  hordes. 
 
 The  eggs  of  insects  are  almost  invariably  laid  near 
 where  the  young  larva  can  find  an  abundance  of  fooa; 
 indeed  this  is  an  absolute  necessity,  as,  if  the  newly  hatch- 
 ed larva,  often  not  more  than  a  twentieth  of  an  inch  in 
 length,  were  compelled   to  travel  any  distance  in  search 
 
98  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 of  food  if  would  inevitably  perish  from  starvation.  In 
 some  instances,  as  with  bees,  the  larva  is  hatched  and 
 goes  through  all  its  changes  to  the  form  of  the  perfect 
 insect  without  moving  from  the  cell  in  which  the  egg 
 was  deposited,  all  its  food  being  brought  to  it  by  the 
 mature  bees,  usually  however  when  the  larva  is  fully 
 grown  it  is  quite  active  and  frequently  travels  considera- 
 ble distances  in  search  of  food. 
 
 This  larval  or  wormlike  stage  of  insect  life  continues 
 for  a  variable  length  of  time,  ranging  from  a  few  days  as 
 with  the  silk  worm,  to  one  or  two  years,  and  even  long- 
 er, as  with  the  17  year  cicada,  which  receives  its  name 
 from  the  time  required  for  its  development  from  the  egg 
 to  the  perfect  insect. 
 
 At  the  conclusion  of  this  second  stage,  or  what 
 might  be  called  the  preparatory  life  of  the  insect,  it 
 passes  into  its  third  or  chrysalis  form  in  which  it  bears 
 little  more  resemblance  to  a  living  animal  than  does  the 
 egg  from  which  it  was  hatched,  and  it  still  gives  little 
 promise  of  the  beautiful  moth  or  gaudily-colored  butter- 
 fly, which  a  few  weeks  or  months  may  bring  from  it; 
 indeed  it  bears  a  much  closer  resemblance  to  the  egg 
 than  to  the  mature  insect.  It  is  usually  nearly  round, 
 somewhat  pointed  at  each  end,  and  sometimes  a  dim  out- 
 line of  the  wings  is  visible  and  two  small  knobs  may  be 
 seen  near  one  end  indicating  the  future  position  of  the 
 eyes.  The  chrysalis  is  entirely  destitute  of  any  means 
 of  locomotion  and  has  no  way  of  taking  food,  in  fact,  the 
 only  sign  of  life  it  is  able  to  make  is  by  slightly  bending 
 itself  when  disturbed. 
 
 The  changes  from  the  larva  to  the  chrysalis,  and 
 from  the  chrysalis  to  the  perfect  form  are  two  of  the 
 most  interesting  phases  of  insect  life.  When  the  larva 
 feels  old  age  approaching  it  seeks  a  suitable  place,  some- 
 
LECTURE  OF   PROF.  TRACY.  99 
 
 times  a  branch  of  a  tree,  the  under  side  of  a  board,  a 
 crack  in  a  fence,  or,  perhaps,  burrows  into  the  ground. 
 There  it  makes  some  sort  of  a  covering  for  itself;  if 
 above  ground  and  a  moth  it  usually  spins  a  cocoon  of 
 silk,  fastening  the  webs  together  with  a  gum-like  sub- 
 stance which  immediately  hardens  on  exposure  to  the 
 air.  This  cocoon  often  contains  more  than  a  thousand 
 feet  of  silk,  its  color,  strength  and  fineness,  depending 
 upon  the  species  of  worm  which  spins  it.  The  cocoon 
 of  the  Cecropia,  which  is  our  largest  American  moth, 
 and  sometimes  measures  nearly  eight  inches  across  the 
 wings,  ma}'  be  frequently  found  attached  to  the  branches 
 of  apple  and  plum  trees.  If  these  cocoons  are  gathered 
 during  the  winter  and  kept  safely  until  May  or  June  we 
 can  easily  watch  the  moth  as  it  bursts  out  into  its  new 
 and  perfect  life,  and  leaves  the  silken  walls  that  have 
 protected  it  through  the  winter.  For  a  day  or  two  be- 
 fore the  moth  emerges  it  may  be  heard  in  its  endeavors 
 to  escape,  and  finally  its  head  will  be  seen  peering 
 through  an  opening  in  one  end  of  the  cocoon  where  the 
 walls  were  simply  glued  together  and  were  not  as  strong 
 as  in  other  parts.  The  moth  slowly  emerges,  taking 
 perhaps  half  an  hour  for  the  operation,  and  then  it 
 stands  upon  the  top  of  its  former  home  drenched  with 
 the  fluid  with  which  it  was  abundantly  lubricated  to  as- 
 sist it  in  its  escape  from  the  cocoon,  and  weary  with  its 
 long  struggle.  The  observer  may  possibly  think  the  in- 
 sect deformed,  as,  in  the  place  of  the  gaudy  wings  which 
 all  arc  accustomed  to  see,  our  moth  has  only  what  ap- 
 pears like  a  bit  of  limp  rag  on  each  side  of  its  body;  but 
 wait  until  it  is  rested  and  you  will  see  it  try  to  raise 
 th. 'sr  shapeless  wings,  again  it  tries,  and  again,  with  no 
 better  success,  but  with  each  effort  its  w  ings  have  in- 
 creased in   size  and  begin  to  assume  their  natural   form. 
 
100  UNIVERSITY    Oh    MISSOURI. 
 
 The  moth  continues  its  efforts  and  as  the  wings  expand 
 and  dry,  we  begin  to  see  the  beautiful  designs  of  the 
 colors  with  which  it  is  adorned.  In  the  course  of  an- 
 other half  hour  our  moth  is  ready  to  fly — unless  we  pre- 
 vent it  by  a  few  drops  of  benzine  applied  to  its  abdo- 
 men to  stop  its  breathing  and  so  kill  it.  It  will  be  much 
 safer  to  keep  the  cocoon  in  a  box  covered  with  mosquito 
 netting  or  otherwise  the  moth  may  make  its  escape  with- 
 out our  knowledge. 
 
 I  have  spoken  of  the  cocoon  of  a  moth  because  that 
 is  the  largest  and  the  most  readily  observed.  Those  in- 
 sects which  build  their  cocoons  by  gluing  together  bits 
 of  chips  which  they  have  bored  from  solid  wood,  or 
 those  which  descend  into  the  ground  and  there  make  for 
 themselves  a  vault-like  earthern  covering,  go  through 
 substantially  the  same  changes. 
 
 After  such  a  long  time  of  development  it  would 
 seem  that  the  life  of  the  mature  insect  should  be  corres- 
 pondingly long.  In  nearly  all  other  animals,  certainly 
 among  all  the  higher  animals,  the  period  of  youth  and 
 growth  bears  but  a  small  proportion  to  the  whole  life, 
 but  among  insects  we  find  this  rule  reversed.  However 
 •long  the  larval  life  may  have  been,  the  adult  life  is  al- 
 ways very  short,  sometimes  only  a  f.jw  hours,  usually 
 but  a  few  days  or  weeks,  and  it  is  very  seldom  indeed 
 that  it  reaches  twelve  months.  Most  of  our  moths  live 
 but  a  few  days,  and  the  Cicada  which  has  spent  nearly 
 seventeen  years  in  preparing  for  active  life  enjoys  this 
 life  for  only  a  brief  month.  The  only  object  of  the  ma- 
 ture life  seems  to  be  the  laying  of  eggs  to  provide  for 
 future  generations,  this  done  the  insect  has  fulfilled  its 
 mission  and  is  ready  to  make  room  for  its  successors. 
 
 What  I  have  given  is  a  brief  outline  of  the  life-his- 
 tory of  most  insects.     Some  acquiring  their  perfect  form 
 
LECTURE   OF    PROF.    TRACY.  101 
 
 without  passing  through  all  the  preliminary  stages. 
 
 Doubtless  many  in  my  audience  are  thoroughly  fa- 
 miliar with  the  development  of  the  grasshopper,  which 
 hatches  from  the  egg  a  true  hopper  and  perfectly  able 
 to  travel,  differing  from  the  adult  form  only  in  being 
 smaller  and  destitute  of  wings.  The  young  hopper 
 sheds  its  skin  frequently,  each  time  increasing  in  size, 
 the  first  scale-like  wings  increasing  also  until  in  a  few 
 weeks  it  is  fully  grown. 
 
 So  much  of  insect  life  history  has  been  given  be- 
 cause a  knowledge  of  this  is  absolutely  necessary  for  an 
 understanding  of  many  habits  and  actions  which  would 
 otherwise  be  entirely  unaccountable. 
 
 Darwin  assuredly  made  a  great  mistake  when  he  en- 
 deavored to  find  the  missing  link  which  should  unite  us 
 with  our  unintellcctual  ancestors — the  monkeys.  He 
 probably  saw  that  physically  some  men  bore  a  striking 
 resemblance  to  some  monkeys,  and  then  jumped  to  the 
 conclusion  that  all  men  were  related,  distantly  it  is  true, 
 but  still  related  to  monkeys.  He  should  have  remem- 
 bered that  mind  is  higher  than  matter,  and  he  should 
 have  looked  for  mental  rather  than  for  merely  physical 
 resemblances.  We  have  certainly  copied  more  mental 
 traits  and  physical  habits  from  insects  than  monkeys 
 ever  thought  of  having.  Almost  all  of  our  industries 
 •are  copied  from  those  of  our  insect  friends;  while  many 
 of  our  mental  and  moral  characteristics  seem  to  be  but  a 
 higher  development  of  the  same  qualities  which  may  be 
 found  more  or  less  prominent  among  these  so-called 
 lower  organizations. 
 
 Here  in  our  University  we  have  a  Department  of 
 Engineering,  but  I  venture  to  say  that  even  in  the  Fac- 
 ulty of  that  department  there  is  not  one  who  will  claim 
 the  necessar)   knowledge,  even  when  aided  by  unlimited 
 
102  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 money  and  labor,  for  the  construction  of  such  suspension 
 bridges  as  are  built  by  the  spider  alone  and  untaught. 
 As  mining'  engineers  insects  rank  far  above  poor  weak 
 and  ignorant  mankind.  Ants  have  been  known  to  turn 
 broad  rivers,  rivers  so  broad  that  to  turn  the  Atlantic 
 ought,  in  comparison,  to  be  an  easy  task  to  us  with  all 
 our  scientific  aids.  Who,  among;  our  miners,  will  ever 
 attempt  an  excavation  500  miles  in  depth;  but  this  would 
 be  no  greater  work  in  proportion  to  our  size  than  is 
 often  performed  by  Texas  ants.  Were  we  provided 
 with  more  instinctive  wisdom  and  less  acquired  knowl- 
 edge we  might,  perhaps,  be  able  to  do  some  great  work 
 which  should  rival  those  of  our  insect  teachers.  Some 
 insects  are  masons,  as  the  wasp,  whose  six  or  eight- 
 roomed  house  of  stone  and  mortar  may  be  found  fast- 
 ened to  the  rafters  of  almost  every  old  barn. 
 
 Carpenters  are  almost  as  plentiful  among  insects  as 
 among  men,  but  with  this  difference,  that  their  manner 
 of  working  is  usually  the  reverse  of  ours:  we  gather 
 our  materials  and  place  them  around  the  room,  while 
 the  insect  carpenter  bores  out  the  room  and  leaves  the 
 walls.  As  paper  makers  (he  wasps  are  decidedly  in  ad- 
 vance of  us.  They  manufacture  an  article  which  is  thin, 
 light,  durable  and  entirely  waterproof,  paper  of  which 
 they  build  houses  to  withstand  the  rain  and  wind  for 
 years  and  which  are  more  impervious  to  water  than  are 
 our  walls  of  brick  and  stone.  Insects  do  not  paint  the- 
 interior  of  their  homes,  but  many  of  them,  nearly  all  of 
 them  when  young,  have  their  chambers  hung  with  finer 
 tapestry  than  was  ever  wrought  by  human  hands. 
 
 In  mental  characteristics  we  find  a  strong  likeness 
 existing  between  ourselves  and  insects.  We  all  know 
 the  necessity  of  providing  for  the  future,  of  having 
 something  laid  bv    for  a  rainv    dav — do    not  the  ants    set 
 
I.KCTURK    OF    PROF.  TRACY.  103 
 
 us  the  example?  Do  the  strong  among  us  take  advan- 
 tage of  the  weak — many  species  of  ants  capture  smaller 
 species  and  keep  them  in  subjection,  depending  entirely 
 on  the  attentions  of  their  captives  to  support  their  own 
 lives,  which  lives  are  spent  only  in  capturing  fresh  vic- 
 tims. Are  we  miserly — the  bee  spends  its  life  in  laying 
 up  treasure  largely  in  excess  of  what  it  can  by  any  pos- 
 sibilitv  require  for  its  own  use.  Have  we  devout  hypo- 
 crites among  u^ — there  is  the  praying  mantis,  an  inno- 
 cent looking  leaf-like  insect  which  will  sit  for  hours  with 
 its  arms  upraised  to  heaven  in  apparent  supplication  tor 
 forgiveness  for  its  many  offences,  but  let  an  unwary  fly 
 approach  and  the  praying  is  instantly  changed  to  prey- 
 ing of  a  different  kind,  as  the  fly  learns  to  its  sorrow. 
 
 The  pernicious  and  dangerous  habit  of  carrying 
 concealed  weapons  was  very  probably  adopted  by  some 
 of  our  ancestors  after  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  impose 
 upon  a  yellow  jacket. 
 
 Professional  life  seems  to  be  entirely  unknown 
 among  insects.  So  far  as  we  can  discover  they  have 
 neither  lawyers,  doctors  nor  teachers.  Their  disputes 
 are  all  satisfactorily  settled  by  the  duel;  sickness  is  almost 
 unknown  and  the   young  are  as  wise  as  the  old. 
 
 Insects  are  not  only  our  teachers,  but  are  often  our 
 friends  and  benefactors.1  The  cochineal,  so  extensively 
 used  as  a  scarlet  dye,  consists  simply  of  the  dried  bodies 
 of  certain  insects.  Our  best  inks  are  manufactured  from 
 oak  galls  which  once  formed  the  leafy  home  of  a  gall 
 fly.  To  the  bee  we  are  indebted  for  honey  and  for  that 
 more  necessary  product,  wax.  The  Bible  speaks  ot 
 locusts  and  wild  honey  as  articles  of  food — that  locusts 
 form  a  staple  article  of  food  among  some  tribes  of 
 American  Indians,  and  during  the  invasions  of  1S74  and 
 1875  many  frontier  settlers  were  glad  to  subsist  on  a  diet 
 
104  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 of  grasshoppers.  One  of  the  leading  restaurateurs  of 
 St.  Louis,  under  the  direction  of  our  State  Etomologist, 
 Prof.  Riley,  gave  a  large  dinner  where  each  course  con- 
 sisted of  grasshoppers  in  some  form.  The  dinner  is  said 
 to  have  been  excellent. 
 
 When  walking  in  the  woods  or  fields  we  almost 
 never  see  a  dead  bird  although  we  may  see  scores  of 
 nests,  and  we  know  that  the  birds  which  have  been 
 reared  in  these  nests  indicate  very  closely  the  number 
 that  have  died  during  the  year.  The  reason  for  this  is 
 very  simple:  the  body  of  a  dead  bird  has  hardly  fallen 
 to  the  ground  before  it  is  surrounded  by  a  number  of 
 sextons  in  the  form  of  beetles  who  at  once  proceed  to  dig 
 a  grave,  lower  the  body  into  it  and  then  cover  it  as  care- 
 fully as  though  it  were  the  remains  of  a  loved  one.  But 
 this  kind  attention  is  due  only  to  the  maternal  instinct 
 which  thus  provides  food  for  the  young  beetles  which 
 these  busy  sextons  have  buried   in  this  new-made  grave. 
 
 Even  our  common  house  flies,  which  are  usually  re- 
 garded as  unmitigated  nuisances,  play  an  important  part 
 in  domestic  economy,  acting  as  scavengers,  clearing  the 
 decaying  filth  from  the  most  minute  crevises  and  corners 
 where  it  would  be  undetected  by  the  eye  of  the  most 
 vigilant  housekeeper,  and  whence  it  could  hardly  be  re- 
 moved even  by  the  most  careful  hands.  The  more  neat 
 the  housekeeping  the  less  need  lor  these  little  house- 
 cleaners,  and,  wiser  in  their  generation  than  many  of  the 
 human  race,  they  always  know  where  they  are   wanted. 
 
 Silk  is  an  article  which  is  in  almost  universal  use, 
 and  in  many  parts  of  the  world  the  production  of  the  silk 
 fiber  is  obtained  by  carefully  unwinding  the  cocoon  made 
 by  the  larva  of  a  small  white  moth  which  is  very  nearly 
 related  to  the  cecropia  and  lunar  moths,  our  largest 
 American  species  and  which  frequently  enter  our  houses 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    TRACY.  105 
 
 on  summer  evenings.  The  eggs  of  this  moth  can  be 
 preserved  without  hatching  for  months  by  keeping  them 
 cool.  When  the  sericulturist  wishes  them  to  hatch  they 
 are  placed  in  a  room  having  a  temperature  of  about  75* 
 and  there  they  are  hatched  in  about  five  days.  The 
 room  is  usually  provided  with  wide  shelves  about  two 
 and  a  half  feet  apart,  and  on  these  shelves  the  worms  are 
 reared.  Mosquito  netting  is  covered  with  a  layer  of 
 fresh  Mulberry  or  Osage  Orange  leaves  and  is  then 
 spread  lightly  over  the  young  worms  which  soon  pass 
 upward  through  the  meshes  in  order  to  reach  the  leaves 
 - — their  tond.  Fresh  leaves  must  be  supplied  at  least 
 twice  each  day  from  this  time  onward.  Each  time  it  is 
 supplied  bv  placing  it  on  netting  or  lattice  work  screens 
 and  allowing  the  worms  to  leave  their  stale  food  for 
 fresher  pastures,  and  enabling  the  cultivator  to  clear  the 
 shelves  of  the  dried  leaves  and  litter  which  have  accum- 
 ulated. In  about  thirty-five  days  the  worm  spins  its 
 cocoon  which  is  composed  of  a  double  thread  of  silk  of 
 such  exceeding  fineness  that  more  than  625  miles  of  it 
 are  required  for  a  single  ounce.  If  the  moth  is  allowed 
 to  mature  the  cocoon  is  ruined,  and  so,  to  secure  the  fibre 
 uninjured  the  insect  is  killed  by  subjecting  it  to  heat 
 soon  after  it  has  entered  the  chrysalis  state.  For  the 
 production  of  an  ounce  of  silk  the  lives  of  fully  3,500 
 insects  must  be  sacrificed. 
 
 Sericulture  is  still  in  its  infancy  in  this  country,  but 
 interest  in  the  business  is  rapidly  increasing,  and  as  it  can 
 be  carried  on  with  but  a  small  amount  of  capital,  and  all 
 of  the  work  can  be  performed  by  women  and  children 
 unfitted  for  more  laborious  tasks,  it  may  be  hoped  that 
 the  time  is  not  far  distant  when  we  shall  raise  our  own 
 silk  as  well  as  our  own  cotton. 
 
 Doubtless    every  insect  has   its   use.      Some  one   lias 
 
106  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 defined  a  weed  as  a  plant  for  which  no  use  has  }  el  been 
 discovered  and  our  so  called  noxious  insects  may  be  like 
 the  weeds  of  which  we  do  not  know  the  value.  Many 
 insects  certainly  seem  to  be  much  more  injurious  than 
 valuable,  and  if  a  few  of  these  troublesome  ones  could 
 be  annihilated,  so  far  as  we  can  see  the  world  would  be 
 much  advantaged  by  their  loss.  Could  mosquitoes  be 
 abolished  we  should  hear  very  few  regrets  but  in  some 
 inscrutable  way  -hey  mav  be  as  essential  to  health  ;is  are 
 the  omnipresent  house  flies.  If  all  insects  are  useful  the 
 usefulness  of  many  of  them  is  certainly  given  us  at  a 
 very  great  cost.  The  products  of  the  soil  either  directly 
 or  indirectly  are  our  only  sources  of  food  and  clothing 
 but  in  order  to  harvest  a  crop  of  any  kind  we  must  wage 
 a  constant  warfare  with  insects  which  also  depend  upon 
 vegetation  for  their  food. 
 
 Wheat  is  our  staple  article  of  food,  but  from  the 
 time  the  seed  is  put  into  the  ground  until  it  is  eaten 
 swarms  of  insects  hover  over  it  literally  eager  to  take 
 the  bread  out  of  our  mouths.  It  has  hardly  made  its  ap- 
 pearance above  the  ground  when  the  Hessian  fly  depos- 
 its her  eggs  on  the  tender  leaves.  The  eggs  soon  hatch 
 and  the  young  larva-  make  their  way  to  the  bottom  of 
 the  plant,  there  to  suck  its  juices  and  spend  the  winter. 
 The  larvae  mature  and  come  forth  as  flies  early  in  the 
 spring  and  deposit  another  set  of  eggs  on  the  leaves  of 
 such  plants  as  have  escaped  the  first  attacks,  and  when  it 
 is  time  for  the  wheat  to  send  up  its  grain  laden  heads  its 
 weak  and  consumptive  look  shows  but  too  plainly  that 
 its  life-blood  has  been  sucked  away  bv  these  countless 
 vampires.  If  the  Hessian  fly  does  not  destroy  the  crop 
 the  chinch  bug  will  frequently  take  possession  of  the 
 field  a  few  days  before  harvest  time  and  instead  of  the 
 upright   straw   and   well   filled   heads    of  grain    we   rind 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.   TRACY.  107 
 
 only  broken  stems  and  withered  heads  of  chaff.  The 
 chinch  bug  may  come  too  late  and  find  that  the  army 
 worms  or  grasshoppers  have  already  harvested  the  crop, 
 leaving  nothing  but  the  bare  earth  behind  them.  If  the 
 wheat  escapes  all  these  dangers  any  one  of  several 
 species  of  weevils  may  attack  the  grain.  If  the  crop  is 
 safely  harvested  and  threshed  and  stored  in  the  granary, 
 still  other  weevils  may  find  it  there  and  soon  leave  noth- 
 ing but  empty  shells  in  the  place  of  the  plump  grains. 
 Even  if  taken  to  the  mill  and  ground  into  flour  it  will 
 be  very  difficult  to  keep  it  for  any  length  of  time  with- 
 out having  it  ruined  by  the  attacks  of  the  meal  worm. 
 These  are  by  no  means  the  only  insects  which  attack  the 
 wheat — the  wheat  beetles,  the  wheat  joint-worm,  the 
 wheat  ophis,  the  wheat  midge  and  the  wheat  moth  all 
 depend  on  the  wheat  crop  for  their  sustenance;  and  hosts 
 of  other  insects  visit  the  wheat  fields  for  an  occasional 
 meal. 
 
 Corn  is  used  largely  on  our  tables  and  is  the  staple 
 food  for  our  domestic  animals.  The  cut  worm,  the  white 
 grub  worm  and  the  wire  worm  attack  its  roots,  the 
 army  worm,  the  grasshopper  and  the  chinch  bugs  its 
 leaves,  and  several  species  of  weevils  and  moths  the 
 grain,  both  when  in  the  field  and  in  the  granary.  So 
 too  with  all  other  crops;  none  arc  exempt  from  the  dan- 
 ger of  being  entirely  destroyed,  and  seldom  or  never 
 does  a  crop  escape  more  or  less  injury  from  insect  depre- 
 dations. Trees  are  no  more  exempt  from  such  attacks 
 than  are  herbaceous  plants.  During  the  last  two  years 
 the  Michigan  lumberman  arc  making  loud  complaints 
 that  the  pine  forests  of  that  state  are  being  destroyed  by 
 countless  borers,  insects  which  take  their  name  from  the 
 manner  in  which  the  larva-  eat  into  or  through  the  tree 
 so  as  to  render  the  lumber  useless  for  manufacturing  pur- 
 
108  UNIVERSITY   OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 poses,  and  often  to  destroy  the  life  of  the  tree.  There 
 is  probably  not  a  tree  on  our  campus  which  does  not 
 contain  a  number  of  some  species  of  borers.  If  a  tree  is 
 vigorous  it  may  withstand  the  attacks  of  these  insects  for 
 a  long  time,  but  the  less  vigorous  the  tree  the  more  lia- 
 ble it  is  to  attack.  Only  last  week  one  tine  hickory  was 
 removed  because  the  borers  had  killed  it,  and  several 
 other  large  trees  must  soon  follow. 
 
 Fruit  trees  suffer  severely  from  these  insect  enemies. 
 Two  species  of  borers  infest  the  trunk  of  the  apple  tree, 
 bark-lice  the  bark,  the  tent  caterpillar  and  the  canker 
 worm  the  leaves,  and  in  many  seasons  the  codling  moth 
 permits  us  to  gather  almost  none  but  worm-eaten  fruit. 
 
 ft  is  true  that  we  seldom  ha\^  all  of  these  destruc- 
 tive insects  to  contend  with  in  any  one  season,  and  tortu- 
 nate  it  is  for  us  that  we  do  not.  Some  ot  them  are  with 
 us  constantly,  but  owing  to  unfavorable  seasons,  the 
 presence  of  other  insects  which  feed  upon  them  or  some 
 other  cause,  they  do  but  little  harm  and  pass  unnoticed 
 perhaps  for  years,  and  then,  without  apparent  cause, 
 multiply  so  rapidly  as  to  defy  computation. 
 
 Other  species  seem  to  come  in  waves,  appearing  in 
 overwhelming  numbers  for  a  time  and  then  disappearing 
 as  suddenly  as  they  came.  Such  was  the  case  with  the 
 potatoe  beetle  which  began  its  eastward  march  from  the 
 Rocky  Mountains  in  1859.  This  vast  army  reaching 
 from  Minnesota  to  Texas  swept  across  the  country  at 
 a  rate  of  about  70  miles  a  year,  reaching  the  Atlantic 
 coast  in  1875,  more  than  doubling  the  price  of  potatoes 
 as  it  advanced.  This  destroying  hoard  did  not  stop 
 when  the  seashore  was  reached,  but  boldly  plunged  into 
 the  ocean  and  the  shores  of  many  of  the  islands  border- 
 ing our  eastern  coast  were  in  some  places  covered  to  a 
 depth    of    several    inches    by    the    beetles    which    were 
 
LECTURK    OF    PROF.  TKAOY.  109 
 
 washed  up  by  the  waves.  European  seaports  have 
 adopted  strict  regulations  to  prevent  the  landing  of  this 
 unwelcome  traveler  upon  their  shores,  but  it  is  greatly  to 
 be  feared  that  it  will  yet  gain  a  foothold  there  and  prove 
 as  destructive  as  it  has  in  its  native  land.  For  several 
 years  these  beetles  have  been  decreasing  in  numbers  in 
 the  western  states,  and  during  the  past  two  years  we 
 have  seen  almost  none  of  them.  They  may  return,  but 
 the  wave  seems  to  have  passed  over  us  for  the  present. 
 
 The  grasshopper  which  has  so  devastated  much  of 
 the  country  west  of  us  is  only  an  occasional  visitor  which 
 cannot  long  endure  the  climate  of  the  open  plains,  and 
 when  it  leaves  its  mountain  home  can  live  but  a  few 
 generations  at  the  longest. 
 
 A  number  of  our  most  troublesome  insects,  like  our 
 worst  weeds,  are  imported  species.  The  meal-worm, 
 the  dread  of  every  miller,  comes  to  us  from  Europe. 
 So  too  does  the  Hessian  fly,  which  is  a  part  of  the  price 
 we  are  paying  for  our  National  existence,  it  having  been 
 brought  to  this  country  by  the  Hessian  soldiers  during 
 the  Revolutionary  war.  Among  the  later  importations 
 we  have  the  rose  slug  which  made  its  first  appearance  in 
 the  east  about  1830,  reaching  St.  Louis  in  1873,  and  Co- 
 lumbia in  1S75.  The  cabbage  worm  was  first  noticed 
 on  this  continent  at  Quebec  in  1859  and  last  year  we  had 
 no  opportunity  to  mourn  its  absence  from  this  locality. 
 The  wheat  midge,  the  grain  weevil,  the  codling  moth 
 and  the  clothes  moth  are  all  foreign  species.  Should  the 
 potato  beetle  succeed  in  reaching  Europe  it  will  do  a 
 great  deal  toward  paying  our  debts  in  this  direction. 
 
 Some  insects,  like  some  plants,  have  an  extremely 
 limited  geographical  range.  The  Tsetse  fly  of  Africa, 
 a  single  bite  of  which  is  fatal  to  a  horse,  has  its  range  as 
 sharply  defined  as  is  that  of  forest  and  prairie,  but  why 
 
110  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 its  range  should  be  so  limited  there  is  no  visible  reason 
 river  or  mountain  chain  separates  its  home  from 
 the  surrounding-  country.  In  the  United  States  there  is 
 a  small  white  moth  which  lives  in  the  flower  of  the 
 Yacca,  Adam's  needle  or  Spanish  bayonet  as  it  is  some- 
 times called — -a  common  plant  which  is  found  in  almost 
 everv  garden  here.  The  moth  is  found  only  where  this 
 plant  is  grown,  and  the  plant  hears  seed  only  where  the 
 moth  is  found.  The  eggs  of  the  moth  are  laid  in  the 
 ovary  of  the  flower — the  flower  cannot  he  fertilized 
 without  artificial  aid,  and  in  the  act  of  laving  its  egg  the 
 moth  transfers  a  portion  of  the  pollen  to  the  pestil  and 
 renders  the  flower  fruitful.  The  plant  is  necessary  for 
 a  home  for  the  moth — Hie  moth  is  necessary  for  the  fer- 
 tilization of  the  flower — -which  was  created  for  the 
 other?  and  which  was  created  first? 
 
 The  summits  of  the  White  Mountains  in  New- 
 Hampshire  have  a  monopoly  of  some  species  of  insects, 
 and  some  of  the  valleys  and  lake  basins  in  the  Rockv 
 Mountains  monopolize  other  species,  while  still  others, 
 though  vcrv  few  are  found  from  Maine  to  California 
 and    Brazil. 
 
 Concerning  the  numbers  of  insects  but  little  is  defi- 
 nitely known.  Of  other  animals  about  ^,000  species 
 have  been  described;  of  insects  over  190,000  species 
 have  already  been  described  and  it  is  estimated  that  they 
 constitute  at  least  four-fifths  of  the  animal  kingdom. 
 Hundreds  of  new  species  are  bejng  discovered  every 
 year  and  the  insect  found  of  many  large  tracts  of  coun- 
 try is  still  almost  unknown.  Until  within  comparatively 
 few  years  but  little  attention  was  given  to  the  subject  of 
 Entomology,  and  the  science  is  now  far  behind  most 
 other  branches  of  Natural  History.  Linnaeus?,  so  uni- 
 versally   known    as    the    father   of  Botany.   migTit    with 
 
LECTURE   OF   PROF.   TRACY.  Ill 
 
 equal  justice  be  called  the  father  of  Entomology  also, 
 for  be  was  the  first  to  make  any  general  or  scientific 
 classification  of  insects,  and  his  classification  with  but 
 one  slight  change,  dividing  one  of  the  orders  into  two — • 
 is  the  one  now  in  general  use.  His  classification  was 
 made  in  1735  and  it  is  since  that  time  that  nearly  all  of 
 the  present  knowledge  of  insect  life  has  been  gained. 
 Linnaeus  named  and  described  man}'  thousands  of  species. 
 Fabricius  and  Latreille  continued  the  work.  Until  the 
 time  of  Agassiz  little  progress  was  made  in  the  science 
 in  this  country  and  it  is  largely  to  him  that  we  owe  our 
 present  knowledge  of  the  insects  o(  North  America. 
 Packard.  Harris,  Leconte,  Thomas,  Walsh  and  Riley  have 
 all  contributed  largely  to  our  fund  of  information,  and 
 there  is  no  other  portion  of  the  world  of  equal  extent 
 where  insects  are  as  well  known  as  in  the  United  States. 
 Rut  even  here  much  remains  to  be  done.  During  1S7S 
 one  young  lady  living  in  Illinois  discovered  no  less  than 
 eighteen  new  species,  all  of  them  within  a  few  miles  of 
 her  own  home.  The  botanist  who  discovers  a  new 
 plant  feels,  and  justly  too,  that  he  has  made  a  valuable 
 addition  to  scientific  knowledge,  but  it  may  be  doubted 
 whether  there  is  a  botanist  in  Missouri  who  within  the 
 past  year,  or  in  the  past  ten  years  even,  has  discovered 
 three  hitherto  unknown  species  of  plants. 
 
 The  life  history  and  habits  of  all  our  more  common 
 insects  have  been  published  in  the  state  reports  bv  almost 
 every  state  in  the  Union,  but  so  much  still  remains  to  be 
 done  that  no  one  has  yet  attempted  to  gather  into  one 
 volume  a  compendium  of  what  has  already  been  accom- 
 plished. The  insects  of  Missouri  have  been  more 
 thoroughly  described  than  those  of  any  other  western 
 state,  but  the  descriptions  are  scattered  through  nine 
 bulkv  and   ill-arranged    volumes  which  it  is  now  almost 
 
112  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 impossible  to  obtain.  A  bill  is  now  pending  in  our 
 State  Legislature  to  have  these  reports  revised,  re-ar- 
 ranged and  republished  in  a  more  available  form,  and 
 certainly  the  small  amount  of  money  necessary  for  the 
 work  could  not  be  more  judiciously  expended. 
 
 Among  the  more  important  things  we  need  to 
 know  concerning  noxious  insects  are:  to  recognize  the 
 insect  whenever  we  see  it.  It  is  not  sufficient  that  we 
 recognize  it  at  the  time  it  is  destroying  the  fruits  of  our 
 labors,  but  we  must  be  able  to  identify  it  at  any  time — 
 when  an  egg,  a  larva  or  a  chrysalis — as  well  as  when  it 
 has  reached  its  perfect  form.  We  should  know  the  food 
 of  the  insect  in  order  that  we  may  know  where  to  look 
 for  it.  We  must  know  when  and  where  the  eggs  are 
 laid  that  we  may  destroy  them  before  the  larvas  escape. 
 We  should  know  when  the  eggs  are  hatched  so  that  we 
 may  know  when  to  give  up  our  search  for  the  eggs  and 
 begin  to  look  for  the  larvae.  We  should  know  the 
 food  plants  of  the  larvae  that  we  may  know  where  to 
 look  for  them.  We  should  know  the  places  sought  for 
 by  the  larvae  when  about  to  enter  the  chrysalis  state  that 
 we  may  set  traps  for  them.  We  must  know  the  chrys- 
 alids  so  that  we  may  destroy  them,  and  we  must  also 
 know  the  mature  insects  that  we  may  prevent  the  growth 
 of  future  generations.  We  should  be  able  to  distinguish 
 our  insect  foes  from  our  insect  friends.  Many  insects  are 
 carnivorous  and  prey  upon  others.  Many  insects  are 
 troubled  with  parasites  which  sooner  or  later  destroy 
 them.  The  presence  of  these  carnivorous  and  parasitic 
 species  should  be  encouraged  as  far  as  possible. 
 
 While  there  is  much  that  is  curious  and  interesting 
 to  be  found  in  the  general  study  of  insects  which  will 
 amply  repay  the  time  spent  by  those  who  have  it  to 
 spare,  it  is  those  insects  with  which  we  must  contend  for 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    TRACY.  113 
 
 the  products  of  the  soil  which  especially  concern  us,  and 
 it  is  their  existence  and  their  ravages  which  make  the 
 science  of  Entomology  especially  valuable  to  practical 
 people.  We  must  know  the  ways  and  habits  of  noxious 
 insects  before  we  can  hope  to  meet  them  on  anything 
 like  equal  terms,  but  knowing  them  thoroughly  we  can 
 do  much  to  keep  them  in  check,  and  in  many  instances 
 ©an  insure  ourselves  fully  against  any  loss  from  their 
 depredations. 
 
errata—Prof.  ficklin'S  lecture. 
 
 Page  115,  line  8,  from  bottom — "sidereal"  instead  of  "sidenel  " 
 Page  1 17,  line  14,  from  bottom — "leaving"  instead  of  "learning." 
 Page  120,  line  5,  from  bottom  insert  "the"  before    "search"    and 
 
 "an"  before  "order." 
 
 Page  122,  line  14,  from  bottom,  put  quotation  mark  after  "habits." 
 Page  127,  line  1, — "quod"  instead  of  "quad,"  and  on  same  page, 
 
 line  8  from  bottom,  "cultivation"  instead  of  "cultivation." 
 
 Page  12S,  line  14,  "answer"  instead  of  "anwser,"  and  in  last  line 
 
 on  same  page  "form"  instead    of  "from,"   and    omit  comma    after 
 
 "which." 
 
 On  same  page,  there  ought  to  be  no  paragraph  at  "At   one  time 
 
 a  writer,"  &c. 
 
 Page  141,  line  5,  from  bottom,  insert  "train  of  satellites  :  Saturn 
 
 and  his"  between  "his"  and  "wonderful." 
 
MATHEMATICS. 
 
 By  Joseph  Fickxin,  Ph.  D.,  Professor  of  Mathe- 
 matics and  Astronomy  in  Missouri  University. 
 Ladies  and  Gentlemen:  In  making  up  the  pro- 
 gramme for  the  present  course  of  University  lectures, 
 one  evening  was  given  to  the  department  of  Mathe- 
 matics. Soon  after  the  adoption  of  this  programme  the 
 question  arose  in  my  mind,  how  can  I  use  the  hour  allot- 
 ted to  my  department  so  as  to  accomplish  the  most  good? 
 Shall  I  take  some  branch  of  Mathematics,  as  Algebra, 
 Geometry  or  Calculus,  and  discuss  it  in  all  its  phases? 
 Shall  I  undertake  to  settle  that  vexed  question  relating  to 
 the  Doctrine  of  Limits,  the  Infinitesimal  Method  and  the 
 Method  of  Rates?  I  was  not  long  in  deciding  to  do 
 none  of  these  things.  Then  I  thought  seriously  of  an 
 experimental  lecture;  but  when  I  came  to  arrange  the 
 details  I  found  insurmountable  difficulties.  Could  I 
 bring  into  this  room  the  Surveyor's  Compass,  the  The- 
 odolite, the  Level,  the  Sextant,  Transit  Instrument, 
 the  Alt-Azimuth,  the  Telescope,  and  Siderasl  clock,  and 
 so  handle  them  as  to  make  the  lecture  interesting  to  my 
 audience?  There  are  obvious  difficulties  in  carrying  out 
 a  plan  of  that  kind.  After  considerable  deliberation  I 
 have  decided  to  consider:  i.  The  value  of  the  study  of 
 Mathematics  as  an  exercise  of  mind.  3.  The  Relation  of 
 Mathematics  to  the  other  Sciences  and  its  Practical  utility. 
 I  have  adopted  this  course  with  some  hesitation,  because, 
 
116  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 during  the  first  semester  of  this  session  there  were  ahout 
 320  students  in  my  department  (and  still  they  come),  and 
 I  fear  that  if  I  should  do  the  subject  full  justice,  there 
 would  be  such  a  rush  upon  me  and  my  assistant,  that  we 
 could  not  accommodate  the  clashes,  and  that  other  de- 
 partments of  learning  might  be  neglected.  I  shall, 
 therefore,  on  the  present  occasion,  present  my  argu- 
 ments in  a  mild  form,  holding  a  reserved  force  for  any 
 emergency  that  may  arise. 
 
 The  human  mind  is  so  constituted  that  doubt  and 
 uncertainty  are  disagreeable  to  it;  but  it  delights  in  prop- 
 ositions about  which  there  is  no  shadow  of  doubt.  This 
 longing  for  definite  knowledge  is  more  fully  satisfied  in 
 the  study  of  Mathematics  than  in  any  other  department 
 of  learning;  for  in  Mathematics  the  premises  are  defini- 
 tions and  axioms,  and  the  conclusion  follows  with  a  force 
 that  is  irresistible.  On  this  point  Dr.  Charles  Davies 
 says:  "The  ideas  which  make  up  our  knowledge  of 
 Mathematical  science  are  all  impressed  on  the  mind  by 
 a  fixed,  definite  and  certain  language,  and  the  mind  em- 
 braces them  as  so  many  images  or  pictures,  clear  and 
 distinct  in  their  outlines,  with  names  which  at  once  sug- 
 gest their  characteristics  and  properties.  The  reasonings 
 are  all  conducted  by  means  of  the  most  striking  rela- 
 tions between  the  known  and  the  unknown.  The  things 
 reasoned  about  and  the  methods  of  reasoning  are  so 
 clearly  apprehended  that  the  mind  never  hesitates  or 
 doubts.  It  comprehends  or  it  does  not  comprehend,  and 
 the  line  which  separates  the  known  from  the  unknown 
 is  always  well  defined.  These  characteristics  give  to 
 this  system  of  reasoning  a  superiority  over  every  other, 
 arising,  not  from  any  difference  in  the  logic,  but  from  a 
 difference  in  the  things  to  which  the  logic  is  applied." 
 If  Dr.  Davies  is  correct,  then  it  follows  that  there  is 
 
IiECTUKE    OF   PROF.  FICKLIN.  117 
 
 no  other  science  which  is  so  well  adapted  to  the  im- 
 provement of  the  reasoning-  powers  of  man.  Does  one 
 wish  to  think  and  reason  correctly  ?  Does  he  feel  that 
 he  needs  mental  discipline?  that  he  needs  the  power  of 
 concentrating  hi^  thoughts?  the  power  of  close  and  pro- 
 longed attention?  Then,  whatever  his  prospective  call- 
 ing in  life  may  he,  it  is  his  duty  to  study  the  mathe- 
 matics. 
 
 About  the  year  1836,  Sir  William  Hamilton's  cele- 
 brated article,  "On  the  study  of  Mathematics  as  an  ex- 
 ercise of  Mind'"  was  published  at  Edinburgh.  This  ar- 
 ticle was  a  reply  to  an  article  entitled:  "Thoughts  on 
 the  study  of  Mathematics  as  a  part  of  a  liberal  Educa- 
 tion," by  Dr.  William  Whewell.  Sir  William  Hamil- 
 ton states  the  issue  as  follows:  "Before  entering  into 
 details  it  is  proper  here,  once  for  all,  to  premise:  In  the 
 first  place,  that  the  question  does  not  regard  the  value  of 
 Mathematical  science,  considered  in  itself,  or  in  its  objec- 
 tive results,  but  the  utility  of  Mathematical  study,  that  is 
 in  its  subjective  effect,  as  an  exercise  of  mind;  and  in  the 
 second,  that  the  expediency  is  not  disputed,  of  learning 
 Mathematics  as  a  co-ordinate,  to  find  their  level  among 
 other  branches  of  academical  instruction."  With  these 
 premises  before  him  Sir  William  undertakes  to  show  by 
 argument,  by  quotations  trom  Mathematicians  them- 
 selves, and  from  others,  that  the  study  of  Mathematics 
 is,  if  carried  beyond  a  very  moderate  extent,  injurious  to 
 the  mind.  This  article  made  a  deep  and  lasting  impres- 
 sion, and  was  hailed  with  delight  by  a  host  of  men  who 
 lacked  either  the  ability  or  the  industry  to  go  very  far  in 
 this  department  of  learning.  Quite  a  number  of  such 
 men,  it  is  said,  easily  reached  the  conclusion  (an  example 
 of  the  non  sequitur)  that  an  incapacity  for  the  study  of 
 Mathematics   was  a  sure  mark  of  a  grenius!     Dr.   Whe- 
 
118  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 well  never  answered  Sir  William.  Indeed  it  is  supposed 
 by  many  at  the  present  day  that  the  article  is  unanswer- 
 able. Now  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  able  to  answer  this 
 article,  nor  have  I  time  on  the  present  occasion,  if  I  had 
 the  ability.  But  I  intend  to  show  by  some  of  the  au- 
 thorities quoted  by  him,  by  argument,  and  by  Sir  Wil- 
 liam Hamilton  himself,  that  the  study  of  Mathematics  is 
 very  beneficial  to  the  mind.  D'Alemhert,  one  of  the  au- 
 thorities quoted  by  Sir  William,  says: 
 
 "The  study  of  Mathematics  and  a  talent  for  it  do 
 not  then  stand  in  the  way  of  a  talent  for  literature,  and 
 literary  pursuits.  We  can  even  say  in  one  sense,  that 
 they  are  useful  for  any  kind  of  writing  whatever;  a  work 
 of  morals,  of  literature,  of  criticism,  will  be  the  better, 
 all  other  things  being  equal,  if  it  is  made  by  a  mathema- 
 tician, as  M.  Fontenelle  has  very  well  observed :  it  will 
 exhibit  that  justness  and  that  connection  of  ideas  to 
 which  the  study  of  mathematics  accustoms  us,  and  which 
 it  afterwards  causes  us  to  carry  into  our  writings  without 
 our  perceiving  it  and  in  spite  of  us."  Sir  W.  H.  quotes 
 Pascal  to  show  the  "difference  between  the  spirit  of 
 Mathematics  and  the  spirit  of  Observation."  I  think  a 
 careful  reading  of  the  extract  will  show  that  Pascal  was 
 trying  to  state  the  difference  between  a  mere  mathema- 
 tician and  a  mere  observer;  for  in  the  closing  part  of  it 
 he  says:  "Mathematicians  who  are  mere  mathemati- 
 cians, have  thus  their  understanding  correct,  provided, 
 always,  that  every  thing  be  well  explained  to  them  by 
 definition  and  principle,  otherwise,  they  are  false  and  in- 
 supportable ;  for  they  are  correct  only  upon  notorious 
 principles.  And  minds  of  observation,  if  only  obser- 
 vant, are  incapable  of  the  patience  to  descend  to  the  first 
 piinciples  of  matters  of  speculation  and  of  imagination, 
 of  which   they   have  no  experience   in  the   usage  of  the 
 
LECTURE    OF  PROF.  FICKLIN.  119 
 
 world."  Pascal  is  sound  on  this  point,  and  I  agree  en- 
 tirely with  him.  I  have  not  much  use  for  a  mere  math- 
 ematician, a  mere  observer,  or  a  mere  any  thing  else.  I 
 am  not  in  favor  _of  a  one-sided  education.  I  advocate 
 with  all  the  emphasis  possible,  the  general  and  harmo- 
 nious development  of  all  the  faculties  of  the  mind.  But 
 I  do  claim  that  the  Mathematics  ought  to  stand  promi- 
 nent in  any  scheme  of  liberal  education.  Pascal  is  sound 
 on  another  point :  He  says :  "this  science  alone  (mathe- 
 matics) knows  the  true  rules  of  reasoning  in  all  things, 
 which  almost  all  the  world  ignores,  and  which  it  is  so 
 advantageous  to  know,  that  we  see  by  experience  that 
 among  minds  equal  and  alike  in  all  other  respects,  he 
 who  is  a  mathematician  excels  and  acquires  a  vigor 
 entirely  new."  "I  wish  then,"  continues  Pascal,  "to 
 show  what  is  a  demonstration  by  examples  from  the 
 Mathematics,  which  is  almost  the  onlv  human  science 
 which  produces  infallible  ones,  because  it  alone  observes 
 the  true  method,  whereas  all  others  are  by  a  natural 
 necessity  in  some  sort  of  confusion  which  mathemati- 
 cians alone  can  fully  understand."  Sir  William  Hamil- 
 ton calls  Pascal  "that  miracle  of  universal  genius." 
 Hence,  whatever  Pascal  says  on  the  subject  under  dis- 
 cussion ought  to  have  great  weight. 
 
 I  quote  next  from  M.  Chasles:  He  says:  "It  is 
 known  how  Descartes,  Pascal  and  Leibnitz,  as  philoso- 
 phers and  writers,  derived  assistance  from  mathematics, 
 and  with  what  urgency  they  recommended  the  study  of 
 the  science  as  infinitely  useful  to  develop  and  to  fortify 
 the  true  spirit  of  method." 
 
 The  next  authority  is  Descartes,  the  founder  of 
 Modern  Philosophy.  Sir  William  Hamilton  -ays  of 
 him:  "Nay  Descartes,  the  greatest  mathematician  of 
 his  age,  and,  in  spite  of  his  mathematics,  also  its  greatest 
 
120  UNIVKRSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 philosopher,  was  convinced  from  his  own  consciousness, 
 that  these  sciences,  however  valuable  as  an  instrument 
 of  external  science,  are  absolutely  pernicious  as  a  means 
 of  internal  culture."  Descartes  must  have  been  a  won- 
 derful man  to  be  the  greatest  mathematician  of  his  age 
 and  its  greatest  philosopher  too,  in  spite  of  his  Math- 
 ematics. If  he  accomplished  so  much  in  the  depart- 
 ment of  Philosophy,  under  such  adverse  influences,  what 
 would  he  have  done,  if  he  had  paid  no  attention  to 
 Mathematics?  For  my  part  I  cannot  tell.  I  have  given 
 Sir  William  Hamilton's  opinion  of  Descartes  in  order  to 
 show  you  that  he  (Descartes)  is  good  authority.  He 
 says:  "In  fact,  it  (mathematics)  ought  to  contain  the  first 
 rudiments  of  human  reason,  and  to  aid  in  drawing  from 
 every  subject  the  truths  which  it  includes;  and  to  speak 
 freely,  I. am  convinced  that  it  is  superior  to  every  other 
 human  means  of  knowledge,  because  it  is  the  origin  and 
 source  of  all  truths."  Again  he  says:  "Now  when  all  the 
 world  knows  the  name  of  the  science,  when  they  con- 
 ceive the  object  of  it,  even  without  thinking  much  about 
 it  whence  comes  it  that  they  seek  painfully  the  knowledge 
 of  the  other  sciences  which  depend  upon  it,  and  that 
 scarcely  any  person  takes  the  trouble  to  study  the  science 
 itself?  I  would  be  astonished  assuredly  if  I  did  not  know 
 that  every  body  regards  it  as  very  easy,  and  if  I  had  not 
 observed  for  some  time  that  always  the  human  mind, 
 passing  by  what  it  believes  to  be  easy,  hastens  on  to  new 
 and  more  elevated  objects.  As  for  myself,  who  am  con- 
 scious of  my  feebleness,  I  have  resolved  to  observe  con- 
 stantly, in  search  after  knowledge,  such  order  that,  com- 
 mencing always  with  the  most  simple  and  easy  things,  I 
 never  take  a  step  forward  in  order  to  pass  to  others,  un- 
 til I  believe  that  nothing  more  remains  to  be  desired 
 concerning:  the   first.     This   is    why    I    have    cultivated 
 
LECTURE  OF    PROF.    FICKLIN.  121 
 
 even  to  this  day,  as  much  as  I  have  been  able,  that  uni- 
 versal mathematical  science,  so  that  I  believe  I-  may 
 hereafter  devote  myself  to  other  sciences,  without  fear- 
 ing that  my  efforts  may  be  premature."  T  will  ask  Des- 
 cartes to  testify  still  further,  for  according-  to  Sir  Wil- 
 liam Hamilton  he  is  a  competent  witness.  This  witness 
 says:  "More  and  more  I  continued  to  practice  the 
 method  I  had  prescribed  to  myself;  for,  besides  that  I 
 was  careful  to  conduct  all  mv  thoughts  generally  by  the 
 rules,  I  reserved  to  myself  from  time  to  time  some 
 hours,  which  I  employed  particularly  in  exercising  my- 
 self in  the  difficulties  of  mathematics,  and  also  in  some 
 others  which  I  could  render  almost  like  the  mathematics, 
 by  detaching  from  them  all  the  principles  of  the  other 
 sciences  which  I  found  not  sufficiently  firm,  as  you  will 
 see  I  have  done  in  several  which  are  explained  in  this 
 volume."  I  will  now  allow  Descartes  to  leave  the  wit- 
 ness stand,  and  while  he  is  retiring  and  before  the  next 
 witness  is  called,  I  will  take  occasion  to  modestly  sug 
 gest  that  possibly  this  greatest  philosopher  of  his  age  be- 
 came such  on  account  of  his  mathematics,  and  that  Sir 
 William  Hamilton  simply  used  the  wrong  sign.  He 
 used  the  negative  sign  when  he  ought  to  have  used  the 
 positive  sign.  Some  of  our  students  will  understand 
 this  remark. 
 
 The  next  witness  is  Dugald  Stewart,  of  whom  Sir 
 William  Hamilton  speaks  thus:  ''To  this  category  we 
 may  also  not  improperly  refer  Dugald  Stewart,  for 
 though  not  an  author  in  mathematical  science,  he  was  in 
 early  life  a  distinguished  professor  of  mathematics;  while 
 his  philosophical  writings  prove,  that  to  the  last,  he  had 
 never  wholly  neglected  the  professional  studies  of  his 
 youth.  In  other  respects,  it  is  needless  to  say  that  his 
 authority  is  of  the  highest."     Having  such  a  testimonial 
 
122  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 as  this  as  to  the  competency  of  the  witness,  we  are  pre- 
 pared to  pay  clue  respect  to  any  utterances  of  his  bear- 
 ing upon  the  question  under  discussion.  After  giving 
 the  reasons  for  his  conclusion  Mr.  Stewart  says:  "And 
 hence  the  study  of  it  (mathematics)  is  peculiarly  calcula- 
 ted to  strengthen  the  powers  of  steady  and  concentrated 
 thinking;  a  power  which  in  all  the  pursuits  of  life* 
 whether  speculative  or  active  is  one  of  the  most  valuable 
 endowments  we  possess."  But  it  may  be  said  by  those 
 who  have  read  the  works  of  Stewart  that  he  testifies 
 just  as  forcibly  on  the  other  side.  For  instance  he  says: 
 "This  bias  (the  bias  toward  credulity)  now  mentioned  is 
 strengthened  by  another  circumstance — the  confidence 
 which  the  mere  mathematician  naturally  acquires  in  his 
 powers  of  reasoning  and  judgment — in  consequence  of 
 which,  though  he  may  be  prevented  in  his  own  pursuits 
 from  going  astray  by  the  absurdities  to  which  his  errors 
 lead  him,  he  is  seldom  apt  to  be  revolted  by  absurd  con- 
 clusion- in  the  other  sciences.  Even  in  physics,  mathe- 
 maticians have  been  led  to  acquiesce  in  conclusions  which 
 appear  ludicrous  to  men  of  different  habits. 
 
 Now  let  us  examine  this  extract  carefully.  Does 
 Mr.  Stewart  say,  substantially,  that  the  tendency  of 
 mathematical  studies  is  toward  credulity?  He  does  not. 
 His  affirmations  relate  to  the  mere  mathematician:  that 
 is,  to  a  man  who  knows  nothing  but  mathematics.  It  is 
 easy  to  see  why  a  mere  mathematician  should  be  some- 
 what credulous  in  other  departments  of  learning.  He  is 
 very  careful  in  every  step  in  his  own  reasoning,  and  he 
 knows  that  his  conclusions  are  correct.  Now,  such  a 
 man  hears  some  laborer  in  some  other  department  of 
 learning  mnke  a  statement  as  to  some  principle  which  he 
 has  discovered,  And  he  believes  the  statement.  Why 
 does  he    believe    it?     Because   he    thinks   that   one    is  as 
 
LEOTUKE  OP    PKOF.  FJCKMN.  123 
 
 exact  and  as  careful  as  himself  in  making  his  investiga- 
 tions, and  when  the  principle  is  announced  the  mere 
 mathematician  reasons  with  himself  ahout  this  way: 
 That  man  has  studied  that  subject  very  carefully,  as 
 carefully,  perhaps,  as  I  would  study  a  proposition  in 
 mathematics,  and  he  says  the  principle  is  true.  There- 
 fore, as  I  know  nothing  about  it,  one  way  or  the  other, 
 I  am  inclined  to  accept  it.  But  would  not  a  mere  any- 
 thing else  be  equally  credulous,  out  of  his  own  line  of 
 thought?  Take  a  man  in  any  department  of  learning, 
 and  let  him  travel  always  in  his  narrow  groove.  Would 
 he  not  be  credulous  as  to  the  statements  made  by  men  in 
 other  departments?  This  would  lie  true  especially  if  he 
 is  an  honest,  careful  man  himself.  But  as  I  have  already 
 said,  I  have  no  use  for  a  mere  mathematician;  away  with 
 him!  Such  a  man  resembles  very  closely  an  old  bach- 
 elor, who  is,  at  best,  only  a  hemisphere.  But  I  will  ask 
 Mr.  Stewart  if  such  a  curiosity  as  a  mere  mathematician 
 is  likely  to  be  found  in  this  part  of  the  Solar  System. 
 On  this  point  he  says:  "It  must  be  remembered,  at  the 
 same  time,  that  the  inconvenience  of  mathematical 
 studies  is  confined  to  those  who  cultivate  them  exclusive- 
 ly ;  and  that  when  combined,  as  they  now  generally  are, 
 they  enlarge  infinitely  our  views  of  the  wisdom  and 
 power  displayed  in  the  universe.  The  very  intimate 
 connection,  indeed,  which  since  the  date  of  the  New- 
 tonian philosophy,  has  existed  among  the  different 
 branches  of  mathematical  and  of  physical  knowledge, 
 renders  such  a  character  as  that  of  the  mere  mathma- 
 tician  a  very  rare,  and  scarcely  a  possible  occurrence; 
 and  cannot  fail  to  have  contributed  powerfully  to  correct 
 the  peculiarities  likely  to  characterize  an  understanding 
 conversant  exclusively  with  the  relations  of  figures  and 
 of  abstract  quantities.      Important    advantages    may    also 
 
124  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 be  expected  to  result  from  those  habits  of  metaphysical 
 and  moral  speculation  which  the  study  both  of  mathe- 
 matics and  of  physics  has  so  strong-  a  tendency  to  en- 
 courage in  every  inquisitive  and  cultivated  mind.  In  the 
 present  state  of  science,  therefore,  mathematical  pursuits 
 seem  to  lead  the  attention,  by  a  natural  process,  to  the 
 employment  of  the  most  effectual  remedies  against  in- 
 conveniences which  they  appear,  on  a  superficial  view, 
 to  threaten;  and  which  there  is  reason  to  believe  they 
 actually  produced  in  many  instances,  where  education 
 was  conducted  on  a  plan  less  enlightened  and  comprehen- 
 sive than  what  now  generally  prevails.1'  I  will  next 
 call  upon  Sir  William  Hamilton  to  state  what  he  thinks 
 of  mathematics  "as  an  instrument  of  mental  culture." 
 He  says:  "Are  mathematics  then  of  no  value  as  an  in- 
 strument of  mental  culture?  Nay,  do  they  exercise  only 
 to  distort  the  mind?  To  this  we  answer:  That  this 
 study,  if  pursued  in  moderation  and  efficiently  counter- 
 acted, may  he  beneficial  in  the  correction  of  a  certain 
 vice,  and  in  the  formation  of  its  corresponding  virtue. 
 The  vice  is  the  habit  of  mental  distraction;  the  virtue 
 the  habit  of  continuous  attention."  Let  us  now  put  by 
 the  side  of  this  statement,  the  judgment  of  Mr.  Stewart, 
 which  I  have  already  quoted.  He  says:  "And  hence 
 the  study  of  it  (mathematics)  is  peculiarly  calculated  to 
 strengthen  the  power  of  steady  and  concatenated  think- 
 ing; a  power  which  in  all  the  pursuits  of  life,  whether 
 speculative  or  active  is  one  of  the  most  valuable  endow- 
 ments we  possess." 
 
 The  "power  of  steady  and  concatenated  thinking" 
 is  simplv  the  power  of  "continuous  attention,"  so  that 
 Sir  William  and  Mr.  Stewart  are  agreed  as  to  the  value 
 of  mathematics  "as  an  instrument  of  mental  culture." 
 It  must    be   observed,   however,   that    Sir    William    ex- 
 
LECTURE   OF    PROF.  FICKLIN.  125 
 
 presses  his  views  a  little  more  delicately,  and  with  a  little 
 more  reservation  than  Mr.  Stewart.  Sir  William  Ham- 
 ilton makes  an  additional  remark  on  the  value  of  atten- 
 tion as  follows:  "Nay,  genius  itself  has  been  analyzed 
 by  the  shrewdest  observers  into  a  higher  capacity  of  at- 
 tention." Now,  if  you  please,  put  these  three  state- 
 ments together  and  then  ask  what  they  prove.  Do  they 
 not  prove  that  the  study  of  mathematics  is  calculated  to 
 strengthen  the  power  of  continuous  attention,  and  that 
 genius  itself  is  simply  a  higher  capacity  of  attention? 
 Sir  Isaac  Newton  himself  admitted  that  it  was  his 
 power  to  concentrate  his  thoughts  on  a  single  point  for  a 
 long  time,  that  distinguished  him  from  other  men.  Sir 
 William  Hamilton  names  seven  persons  who  had  this 
 "higher  capacity  of  attention"  in  a  remarkable  degree, 
 and  five  out  ot  the  seven,  viz:  Archimedes,  Carneades, 
 Newton,  Cardan  and  Victa,  were  great  mathematicians. 
 You  see  what  this  fact  proves,  I  am  sure.  Possibly  this 
 great  power  was  developed  in  them  in  "spite  of  their 
 mathematics,"  but  on  mathematical  principles,  the  prob- 
 ability is  as  5  to  2  against  such  an  hypothesis.  Again  in 
 a  work  published  in  1780,  Condillac  says:  "There  are 
 four  celebrated  metaphysicians,  Descartes,  Mallcbranche, 
 Leibnitz  and  Locke."  Three  of  these  were  great  mathe- 
 maticians, and  one  of  them,  Descartes,  the  greatest 
 mathematician  and  the  greatest  philosopher  of  his  age. 
 We  have  here  the  data  for  the  solution  of  another  prob- 
 lem in  probabilities. 
 
 In  the  next  place  I  shall  prove  that  the  study  of 
 mathematics  is  very  valuable  as  a  means  of  mental  cul- 
 ture, because  it  leads  to  a  sound  philosophy.  My  first 
 argument,  in  proof  of  this  proposition,  is  drawn  from  a 
 statement  made  by  D'Alembert,  who  was  great  both 
 as    a    mathematician    and    as  a    philosopher.      He    says: 
 
126  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 "But  independently  of  the  physical   and  palpable  uses  of 
 mathematics,  we  will  consider  here  its  advantages  under 
 another  point   of  view;  it   is  the  utility   of  this  study   in 
 preparing,  insensibly,  paths   for   the  philosophical  mind, 
 and   in   disposing   an  entire  nation  to  receive   the   light 
 which  that  mind  may  diffuse  over  it.     It  is  perhaps  the 
 only  means  by   which   certain   countries  in  Europe   can 
 throw  off  by    degrees  the  yoke   of  oppression   and  pro- 
 found ignorance  under  which  they   groan.     The  small 
 number  of  enlightened  men  who  live  in  countries  of  the 
 Inquisition,   complain  bitterly,  though  in  secret,  of  the 
 little  progress  which  the  sciences  have  hitherto  made  in 
 those   sad   regions.      The   precautions   which    they  have 
 taken  to  prevent  the  light  from  penetrating   into  them, 
 have  so  well   succeeded   that   philosophy  there    is  very 
 nearly  in  the  same  condition  in  which  it  was  in  the  time 
 of  Louis,  the  Young.     If  mathematicians  should  spring 
 up    among  these    people,    they  are    a    seed    which   will 
 produce  philosophers  in    due   time,  and   almost   without 
 its    being    perceived.     The  most  delicate   and  the   most 
 scrupulous   orthodoxy   has   nothing   to   contest   with  the 
 Mathematics.     Those  who   believe   it  is  their  interest  to 
 hold  the  minds  of  men  in  darkness,  have  sufficient  fore- 
 sight to  prevent  the  progress  of  this  science,  and  never 
 fail  of  a    pretext    to   prevent    it    from    spreading.     The 
 study   of  Mathematics    conducts   to   that    of  Mechanics; 
 the  latter  leads,  of  itself  and  without  obstacles,   to   the 
 study   of  sound    physics;  and    finally    sound    physics    to 
 true  philosophy,  which  by  the  prompt  and  general  light 
 which   its  sheds,  will   soon  be    more   powerful   than  all 
 the  efforts    of   superstition;    for  these   efforts,    however 
 great  they  may  be,  are  useless  when  the  nation  is  once 
 enlightened." 
 
 After  such  testimony  as  this  I  would  be  justified  in 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.  FICKLTN.  127 
 
 closing  the  argument  with  a  quad  erat  demonstrandum, 
 but  to  make  the  case  still  stronger  I  will  pursue  the  train 
 of  thought  suggested  by  this  extract:      I    raise   the  ques- 
 tion :  In  what  countries  and   in  what  ages  of  the  world 
 has  philosophy   flourished?     Why  was  Ancient   Greece 
 celebrated  on  account  of  her  distinguished  philosophers? 
 It  was  because  her    people  did   not  neglect    geometry. 
 The    testimony  of  Plato,    one  of  the    greatest    philoso- 
 phers of  any   country  or  any  age  is  in  point   here,     In 
 his  Repub.  Book  VII,  he  uses  the  following  language: 
 "Therefore,   then  said   I,  it  must  be  especially   enjoined 
 that  those  in  your  beautiful  city  shall  in  no  manner  neg- 
 lect geometry,  for  it  is  the  most  beautiful  of  all  sciences, 
 and  we  surely  know  that  one  who  has  studied  geometry, 
 differs  entirely  from  one  who  has  not  studied  it."     This 
 extract  shows  not  only  that  geometry  was  an  established 
 science  in  the  days  of  Plato,  but  it  .shows  that  he  consid- 
 ered   it    very  unwise    to    neglect    it.     Plato    founded    a 
 school  of  Philosophy,  and   in  this  school  Geometry  was 
 made  the  basis  of  instruction.     It  is  said   that  he   placed 
 this  inscription  over  the  door  of  his  school:  "Let  no  one 
 who   is    ignorant    of    Geometry    enter    here/'     He,    no 
 doubt,  believed  that  his  instruction's  in  Philosophy  could 
 not  be  understood  and  appreciated  by  one  who   was  ig- 
 norant of  geometry.     But  I   need  not  multiply  evidence 
 on    this    point.      It    is    well    known    that    the     Ancient 
 Greeks   surpassed  all  other  nations  in  the   cultivalion  of 
 geometry,  and   that   the  resulting  crop   ot  philosophers 
 was  correspondingly  large.     Look  at  Rome;  who  were 
 her  great  mathematicians?     She  never  had  any.     What 
 little  mathematics  the  Romans  knew   was  derived  from 
 the  Greeks,  and  its  study  was  encouraged  chiefly   on  ac- 
 count of  its  use   in  architecture   and  in  the  art   of  war. 
 Who  were  her  great  philosophers?     Cicero  and  Seneca 
 
128  UNIVKRS1TY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 were  perhaps  the  most  eminent  among  them,  and  their 
 philosophy,  like  their  Mathematics,  was  borrowed  from 
 the  Greeks.  The  Chinese,  Turks  and  Japanese  have 
 never  cultivated  Mathematics  to  any  great  extent. 
 Where  are  their  philosophers?  Look  at  Mexico  and  the 
 States  of  South  America,  where  little  attention  is  paid 
 to  Mathematics.  If  you  look  for  philosophers  in  these 
 countries  you  will  find  them  very  scarce  indeed.  Why 
 is  this?  I  answer  that  in  these  countries  the  study  of 
 Mathematics,  which  lays  the  foundation  for  sound  philos- 
 ophy, has  been  neglected.  If  you  fail  to  sow  the  seed, 
 you  need  not  expect  a  crop.  I  now  repeat  my  question : 
 "In  what  countries,  and  in  what  ages  of  the  world  has 
 philosophy  flourished  ?"  You  are  ready  to  anwser : 
 "Wherever  and  whenever  the  greatest  attention  was 
 given  to  the  study  of  Mathematics." 
 
 Again,  the  study  of  Mathematics  is  valuable  as  a 
 means  of  mental  culture,  because  it  leads  to  a  definite 
 phraseology.  Why  is  a  definite  phraseology  desirable? 
 In  order  that  the  reader  may  understand  the  writer;  in 
 order  that  the  hearer  may  understand  the  speaker,  and 
 in  order  that  cither  may  understand  himself.  One  great 
 source  of  error  in  reasoning  is  due  to  the  fact  that  words 
 are  used  in  a  double  or  incomplete  sense. 
 
 At  one  time  a  writer  may  use  a  word  in  one  sense, 
 and  at  another  time,  without  being  aware  of  it,  he  may 
 use  it  in  a  different  sense,  on  the  same  subject,  and  thus 
 mislead  the  reader,  and  it  may  be,  himself  also.  Now 
 the  stud)'  of  Mathematics  fortifies  one  against  errors  of 
 this  kind,  for  words  are  here  used  in  a  definite  and  com- 
 plete sense.  I  shall  ask  Mr.  Stewart  to  testify  on  this 
 point.  He  says:  "Of  the  peculiar  and  super-eminent 
 advantage  possessed  by  Mathematicians  in  consequence 
 of  those  fixed  and  definite  relations  which,  from  the  oh- 
 
LECTURE  OK    PROF.   FICKLIN.  129 
 
 jects  of  their  science,  and  the  correspondent  precision 
 in  their  language  and  reasonings,  I  can  think  of  no  illus- 
 tration more  striking  than  what  is  afforded  by  Dr.  Hal- 
 ley's  Latin  version  from  an  Arabic  manuscript,  of  the 
 two  books  of  Apollonius  Pergaeus  de  Sectione  Ratio- 
 nis.  The  extraordinary  circumstances  under  which  this 
 version  was  attempted  and  completed  (which  I  presume 
 are  little  known  beyond  the  narrow  circle  of  mathemat- 
 ical readers)  appears  to  me  so  highly  curious,  considered 
 as  a  matter  of  literary  history,  that  I  shall  copy  a  short 
 detail  of  them  from  Halley's  preface.  After  mention- 
 ing the  accidental  discovery  in  the  Bodleian  library  by 
 Dr.  Bernard,  Savilian  Professor  of  Astronomy,  of  the 
 Arabic  version  of  Apollonius,  Peri  logon  apotomes, 
 Dr.  Halley  proceeds  thus:  "Delighted,  therefore,  with 
 the  discovery  of  such  a  treasure,  Bernard  applied  him- 
 self diligently  to  the  task  of  a  Latin  translation.  But 
 before  he  had  finished  a  tenth  part  of  his  undertaking, 
 he  abandoned  it  altogether,  either  from  his  experience 
 of  its  growing  difficulties,  or  from  the  pressure  of  other 
 avocations.  Afterwards,  when  on  the  death  of  Dr. 
 Wallis,  the  Savilian  professorship  was  bestowed  on  me  I 
 was  seized  with  a  strong  desire  of  making  a  trial  to 
 complete  what  Bernard  had  begun; — an  attempt  of  the 
 boldness  of  which  the  reader  may  judge,  when  he  is  in- 
 formed, that,  in  addition  to  my  own  entire  ignorance  of 
 the  Arabic  language,  I  had  to  contend  with  the  obscuri- 
 ties occasioned  by  innumerable  passages  which  were 
 either  defaced  or  altogether  obliterated.  With  the  as- 
 sistance, however,  of  the  sheets  which  Bernard  had  left, 
 and  which  served  me  as  a  key  for  investigating  the 
 sense  of  the  original,  I  began  first  with  making  a  list  of 
 those  words,  the  signification  of  which  his  version  had 
 clearly  ascertained;  and  then  proceeded,  by   comparing 
 
130  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 these  words  wherever  they  occurred,  with  the  train  of 
 reasoning  in  which  they  were  involved,  to  decipher,  hy 
 slow  degrees,  the  import  of  the  context;  till  at  last  I 
 succeeded  in  mastering  the  whole  work,  and  in  bringing 
 my  translation  (without  the  aid  of  any  other  person)  to 
 the  form  in  which  I  now  give  it  to  the  public.  When 
 a  similar  attempt  shall  be  made  with  equal  success,  in 
 deciphering  a  moral  or  a  political  treatise  written  in  an 
 unknown  tongue,  then,  and  not  till  then,  may  we  think 
 of  comparing  the  phraseology  of  these  two  sciences 
 With  the  simple  and  rigorous  language  of  the  Greek 
 geometers;  or  with  the  more  refined  and  abstract,  but 
 not  less  scrupulously  logical  system  of  signs,  employed 
 by  modern  mathematicians." 
 
 Another  reason  why  the  study  of  mathematics  is 
 valuable  as  a  mental  gymnastic  is  that  it  accustoms  the 
 mind  to  seek  truth  for  its  own  sake,  and  .to  accept  as 
 true  whatever  is  proved.  Hence  the  tendency  of  this 
 study  is  to  eradicate  prejudice. 
 
 In  the  Southern  Rcvicxo,  Prof.  Bledsoe,  to  whom  I 
 am  indebted  for  some  of  my  extracts,  makes  this  state- 
 ment: "The  study  of  mathematics  invigorates  the  will, 
 and  thereby  increases  the  efficiency  of  all  the  other  fac- 
 ulties of  the  mind."  This  is  admirably  said,  and  a  little 
 consideration  will  show  that  it  is  true.  When  one  suc- 
 ceeds in  demonstrating  some  difficult  theorem,  or  in 
 solving  some  intricate  problem,  he  experiences,  not  only 
 a  hi^h  degree  of  satisfaction,  but  he  realizes  that  he  has 
 acquired  new  power,  that  his  ability  to  reason  has  been 
 increased,  and  that  he  is  better  prepared  to  contend  with 
 difficulties  and  to  overcome  the  obstacles  that  lie  before 
 him  in  the  battle  of  life.  When  the  great  Newton  had 
 succeeded  in  demonstrating  the  universal  law  of  gravita- 
 tion, did  he  stop  at  that  point?     No!    His   mind   seemed 
 
LECTURE  OK   PROF.    FIOKLIN.  131 
 
 to  receive  additional  power,  and  he  proceeded  to  develop 
 his  brilliant  discovery  in  his  Principia,  "which,'*  Anago 
 says,  "even  in  the  present  day,  is  regarded  as  the  most 
 eminent  production  at   the  human  intellect." 
 
 The  tendency  of  the  study  of  Mathematics  is  to 
 make  one  prompt  and  truthful.  Many  people  are  in  the 
 habit  of  making  false  statements,  not  through  any  desire 
 to  deceive,  hut  on  account  of  carelessness  in  the  use  of 
 language,  and  many  seem  to  think  it  quite  unnecessary 
 to  meet  their  engagements.  A  man  may  promise  to 
 meet  you  precisely  at  3  p.  m.,  on  a  certain  da}:,  for  the 
 transaction  of  important  business,  but  the  average  man 
 would  think  he  was  doing  remarkably  well  if  he  came 
 to  the  station  at  half  past  five.  The  fact  is,  in  most  cases, 
 when  two  men  agree  to  meet  at  a  certain  time,  neither 
 of  them  expects  the  other  to  come  to  time,  and  this  mu- 
 tual distrust  aggravates  the  difficulty.  Now  I  claim  that 
 it  is  the  tendency  of  mathematical  studies  to  correct 
 these  evils.  A  man  who  has  long  been  accustomed  to 
 the  exact,  close  and  rigid  reasoning  of  mathematics, 
 who  has  been  compelled  to  give  the  closest  possible  at- 
 tention to  every  point  in  the  argument,  uiu\  to  state  that 
 argument  in  the  most  exact  language,  will  surely  exhibit 
 the  effects  of  his  training  in  his  daily  walk  and  conver- 
 sation. .Such  a  man  is  almost  certain  to  be  truthful, 
 prompt,  and  true  to  his  engagements,  for  he  lias  learned 
 thai  guessing  is  out  of  order,  and  that  "'about  right"  or 
 "somewhere   in    the    neighborhood    of   the    truth"    will 
 
 :ely  pass.  [t  is  true,  that  a  young  man  may  have 
 the  habit  of  carelessness  SO  fastened  upon  him  that  noth- 
 ing will  save  him;  hut,  if  he  is  not  totally  depraved  in 
 this  respect,  a  severe  drill  in  mathematics  will  do  him 
 some  good.  This  remark  is  especially  applicable  to 
 Astronomy,  for  if  one    wishes  to  see  a  certain  star   cross 
 
132  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 the   meridian,  he   must  come  to  time;  if  he   is  a  second 
 behind  time  he  finds  the  star  is  gone. 
 
 The  study  of  Mathematics  tends  to  cultivate  the 
 imagination.  In  proof  of  this  proposition  I  present  an 
 extract  from  a  series  of  articles  on  the  imagination  by 
 Dr.  Thomas  Hill,  formerly  President  of  Harvard.  He 
 says:  "In  this  Geometrical  imagination,  the  utmost  pre- 
 cision is  necessary.  From  a  muddy,  ill-defined  image, 
 no  consequences  can  be  deduced.  The  geometric  form 
 is  one  of  absolute  perfection;  from  approximate  forms 
 nothing  but  approximate  results  can  be  obtained.  *  *  * 
 In  cultivating  Geometry,  we  prepare  the  pupil  in  the 
 most  effective  way  for  any  or  all  the  practical  arts  of  life; 
 we  aid  efficiently  in  fitting  him  for  painting,  engrav- 
 ing, or  sculpture,  among  the  arts;  and  we  give  him  the 
 surest  foundation  on  which  to  build  scientific  knowledge. 
 Nay,  even  for  those  professions  which  deal  with  man, 
 geometry  is  a  fitting  preparation,  not  chiefly  because  it 
 trains  the  mind  to  logical  reasoning,  but  rather  because 
 it  leads  to  accuracy  of  conception,  to  clearness  of  percep- 
 tion, to  precision  of  expression,  to  definiteness  and  fitness 
 in  the  choice  of  imagery.  All  language,  through  which 
 we  deal  with  each  other,  even  when  discussing  the 
 most  abstract  thehies,  is  figurative,  borrowed  from  the 
 outward  world;  and  whatever  leads  to  the  most  vivid 
 imagination  of  the  realities  of  th<*  outward  world,  leads 
 to  the  most  vigorous  expression  of  the  facts  of  the  in- 
 ward world.  Thus  Geometrical  training  tends  indirectly 
 to  cultivate  the  power  by  which  the  lawyer,  the  orator, 
 the  clergyman  and  the  author  convince,  persuade,  in- 
 struct and  delight  their  fellow-men."  It  is  true  that  Dr. 
 Hill  here  refers  more  especially  to  practical  Geometry, 
 where  the  pupil  has  before  him  the  actual  forms,  and 
 where   he   is   required  to   make  drawings   of  them;  but 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.  FICKLIN.  133 
 
 when  geometry  is  taught  as  it  ought  to  be,  the  theoreti- 
 cal and  the  practical  are  combined;  then  the  advantages 
 enumerated  will   be  greatly  increased. 
 
 This  "cloud  of  witnesses"  and  the  arguments  I  have 
 presented  prove,  I  think,  that  the  discipline  acquired  in 
 the  study  of  Mathematics  is  very  valuable  in  this  life; 
 but  when  we  reflect  that  every  demonstrated  proposition 
 is  an  immutable,  everlasting  truth,  and  that  it  will  be  val- 
 uable to  us  during  the  endless  cycles  of  eternity,  in  our 
 investigations  of  the  laws  that  govern  the  wonderful 
 works  of  God,  this  discipline  and  this  knowledge  be- 
 come valuable  beyond  conception.  Other  things  being 
 equal,  the  one  who  knows  most  about  the  works  of  God, 
 as  exhibited  in  the  material  universe,  knows  most  about 
 God  himself.  Who  has  a  better  conception  of  the  pow- 
 er and  wisdom  of  the  Creator?  one  who,  ignorant  of 
 mathematics,  looks  upon  the  countless  host  of  stars  and 
 planets  as  mere  shining  points  scattered  here  and  there 
 without  design,  without  order,  and  without  law?  or  one 
 skilled  in  this  science,  who  looks  upon  the  universe  as  a 
 grand  machine,  held  together  and  governed  by  immuta- 
 ble laws;  who  is  able  to  measure  the  diameters  and  dis- 
 tances of  the  sun  and  planets,  to  estimate  their  masses, 
 and  to  predict  all  their  movements? 
 
 This  question  is  sometimes  asked  by  students  who 
 do  not  expect  to  engage  in  any  business  directly  involv- 
 ing the  higher  branches  of  Mathematics:  What  good 
 will  it  do  me  to  spend  my  time  on  Mathematical  studies? 
 What  is  the  use  of  it?  I  answer:  You  ought  not  to 
 devote  your  whole  time  to  mathematics,  for  if  you  do, 
 you  will  be  a  mere  mathematician;  but,  if  you  expect  to 
 engage  in  any  pursuit  requiring  accurate  thinking,  you 
 ought  to  give  a  liberal  share  of  your  time  to  the  stud}'  of 
 the  exact  sciences,   for   reasons   alreadv    given.     On   the 
 
134  UNIVKRSITV    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 other  hand,  if  you  expect  to  stop  thinking  and  reason- 
 ing; if  you  are  satisfied  to  go  through  life  guessing  at 
 results,  you  can  be  excused.  The  fact  is  there  is  no  pro- 
 fession in  which  the  discipline  acquired  in  the  study  of 
 Mathematics,  will  not  be  beneficial,  except  loafing,  run- 
 ning a  hand   organ,  and    in  the  lower   walks  of  politics. 
 
 There  is  a  tendency  in  the  present  day  to  think 
 lightly  of  a  branch  of  learning  which  is  said  to  give 
 mere  mental  discipline.  There  is  a  disposition  to  esti- 
 mate an  education  according  to  the  amount  of  wealth  it 
 will  yield.  You  have  doubtless  heard  of  Mr.  "Thomas 
 Gradgrind  of  Stone  Lodge."  He  and  others  like  him 
 were  the  founders  of  this  utilitarian  system.  "What  I 
 want,"  said  Mr.  Gradgrind,"  "is  facts;  teach  these  boys 
 and  girls  nothing  but  facts;  facts  alone  are  wanted  in 
 life.  Plant  nothing  else,  and  root  out  every  thing  else." 
 Now,  I  do  not  admit  that  the  study  of  mathematics  is 
 valuable  merely  as  a  mental  discipline:  on  the  contrary 
 I  intend  to  show  that  it  is  the  basis  of  all  that  is  prac- 
 tical in  science;  vet.  for  the  sake  of  argument,  let  it  be 
 granted  that  it  is  valuable  in  this  respect  only.  Is  it 
 necessary  that  the  mind  should  be  well  trained  in  order 
 to  make  the  proper  use  of  these  facts,  which  we  are  to 
 observe?  Who  is  best  qualified  to  arrange,  to  classify, 
 and  to  embrace  under  one  grand  law,  these  facts?  The 
 mere  observer?  or  the  man  who  in  addition  to  being  a 
 good  observer,  has  been  severely  disciplined  in  the 
 school  of  mathematics? 
 
 Without  such  discipline  the  deductions  of  the  human 
 mind  are  unreliable;  it  is  apt  to  draw  general  conclusions 
 from  particular  cases,  and  to  be  led,  in  various  ways,  into 
 error.  Let  me  emphasize  the  thought  then,  that  mental 
 discipline  is  as  important  to  the  thinker  as  manual  skill 
 to   the  worker  in  the  mechanic   arts,  and   that   the  study 
 
LECTURE    OF   PROF.  FICKLIN.  135 
 
 of  mathematics  cannot,  without  serious  loss,  be  neglected 
 by  one  who  would  become  an  accurate,  skillful  and 
 ready  reasoner. 
 
 It  is  truly  stated  by  Sir  William  Hamilton  that 
 "all  matter  is  either  necessary  or  contingent,"  and  it 
 is  claimed  by  some  philosophers  that  reasoning  upon 
 necessary  matter,  as  in  the  pure  mathematics,  is  not 
 as  beneficial  to  the  mind  as  probable  reasoning.  I 
 remark,  in  the  fir-'  place,  that  the  study  of  necessary 
 reasoning  is  an  indispensable  preparation  for  the  study 
 of  the  probable,  because  the  study  of  the  necessary  leads 
 to  a  most  careful  scrutiny  of  premises,  to  clear  and  ac- 
 curate thought,  and  hence  to  a  definite  phraseology;  and, 
 that  the  term  mathematics  includes  both  theoretical  and 
 applied  mathematics,  and  in  the  latter,  especially  in  En- 
 gineering and  Practical  Astronomy  there  is  the  widest 
 field  for  reasoning  upon  contingent  matter;  for  examples 
 of  this  kind  of  reasoning  I  refer  to  the  account  in 
 Loomis's  Recent  Progress  of  Astronomy,  of  the  discov- 
 ery of  the  planet  Neptune,  and  to  Prof.  Newcomb's  "Re- 
 duction and  discussion  of  observations  on  the  moon  be- 
 fore 1750."  In  the  third  place,  it  is  undoubtedly  true 
 that  the  sphere  of  necessarv  matter  is  rapidly  enlarging 
 and  encroaching  upon  that  of  contingent  matter,  and 
 this  will  continue  as  long  as  exact  observations  continue 
 to  be  made. 
 
 Comte,  in  his  Philosophy  of  Mathematics,  affirms 
 "that,  in  the  purely  logical  point  of  view,  this  science 
 (mathematics)  is  by  itself  necessarilv  and  rigorously 
 universal;  for  there  is  no  question  whatever  which 
 may  not  be  finally  conceived  as  consisting  in  deter- 
 mining certain  quantities  from  others  by  means  of  cer- 
 tain relations,  and  consequently  as  admitting  of  reduc- 
 tion, in  final    analysis,  to  a  simple  question  of  numbers." 
 
1S6  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 Again,  the  same  writer  says,  that  "every  phenomenon  is 
 logically  susceptible  of  being  represented  by  an 
 equation ;  as  much  so,  indeed,  as  is  a  curve  or  a  motion, 
 excepting  the  difficulty  of  discovering  it,  and  then  of  re- 
 solving it,  which  may  be,  and  often  times  are,  superior 
 to  the   greatest  powers   of  the  human  mind." 
 
 Having  shown  that  the  study  of  mathematics  is  indis- 
 pensable as  a  means  of  mental  culture,  I  come  next  to 
 consider  its  practical  utility.  Is  mathematics  a  practical 
 science?  The  word  practical  \s>  very  imperfectly  under- 
 stood by  the  mass  of  mankind.  It  is  supposed  by  many  to 
 be  the  very  opposite  of  theoretical.  Docs  any  practical 
 good  arise  from  pursuing  such  a  study  ?  Would  it  not  be 
 better  to  learn  facts?  are  questions  often  propounded.  Let 
 us  examine  this  word  practical  a  little:  As  generally 
 used,  this  word  implies  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  by 
 some  short  and  easy  process;  in  fact,  it  implies  the  vise  of 
 a  principle  without  knowing  it  to  be  true.  The  so-called 
 practical  man  says:  "Just  give  me  the  rule,  and  I  will 
 work  by  it;  I  merely  wish  to  know  how  to  apply  the 
 rule;  I  care  nothing  for  the  analysis  that  proves  the  rule 
 to  be  true."  If  all  men  were  practical  in  this  sense,  how 
 long  would  it  be  before  the  rules  would  be  forgotten, 
 and  not  a  man  could  be  found  to  make  one?  Prof. 
 Davies  in  his  "Logic  and  Utility  of  Mathematics,"  com- 
 menting on  the  true  meaning  of  the  word  practical, 
 says:  "But  give  to  practical  its  true  signification,  and  it 
 becomes  a  word  of  the  choicest  import.  In  its  right 
 sense,  it  is  the  best  means  of  making  the  ideal  the  actual; 
 that  is,  the  best  means  of  carrying  into  the  business  and 
 practical  affairs  of  life  the  conceptions  and  deductions  of 
 science.  All  that  is  truly  great  in  the  practical  is  but 
 the  actual  of  an  antecedent  ideal."  In  this  sense  of  the 
 word  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  that  mathematical  science 
 is  eminently  practical. 
 
LECTURE    OF  PROF.  FICKL.IN.  187 
 
 The  mason  needs  geometry  to  estimate  the  quan- 
 tity of  material  used;  the  architect  needs  it  in  order  to 
 adjust  the  various  parts  of  the  building;  the  mill-wright 
 needs  the  mathematical  principles  of  Natural  Philoso- 
 phy in  order  to  estimate  the  amount  of  power  required 
 to  overcome  a  given  resistance. 
 
 If  the  Missouri  or  the  Mississippi  is  to  be  spanned 
 by  a  bridge,  a  great  mathematician  must  be  employed  to 
 take  charge  of  the  work.  The  form,  size,  and  strength 
 of  every  beam  and  bolt  must  be  determined  in  the  be- 
 ginning, otherwise  there  would  be  a  great  loss  of  money, 
 time  and    material. 
 
 Is  the  art  of  navigation  practical?  and  does  it 
 depend  upon  mathematics?  The  vessel  is  constructed 
 in  accordance  with  mathematical  principles,  and  it  pur- 
 sues its  way  through  the  trackless  deep  guided  by 
 the  unerring  results  of  mathematical  formulae.  When 
 we  consider  the  amount  of  life  and  property  involved 
 in  navigation  we  see  that  mathematics  is  very  useful, 
 for,  without  its  aid,  ships  would  not  venture  far  from 
 the  coast,  and  communication  between  continents  would 
 cease. 
 
 The  laws  established  by  Kepler,  Newton,  La  Place, 
 and  others  were  at  one  time  though;  to  be  merely 
 theoretical,  and  without  any  practical  value  what- 
 ever; and  when  Bowditch,  the  American  mathema- 
 tician, undertook  the  translation  of  La  Place's  cele- 
 brated work,  the  Mechanique  Celeste"  some  thought  it 
 a  great  waste  of  time,  and  that  old  question,  "What  is 
 the  use  of  it?"  came  up  again.  Now  I  wish  it  under- 
 stood that  1  do  not  object  to  the  question.  It  is  a  good 
 and  pointed  question,  and  ought  to  be  answered.  The 
 answer  is,  that  Bowditch  having  mastered  the  works  of 
 these  celebrated    men,  was   enabled    to   construct    tables 
 
138  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 for  the  navigator,  by  means  of  which  the  latitude  and 
 longitude  of  a  ship  could  be  determined  with  greater  ac- 
 curacy than   had    hitherto  been   possible. 
 
 The  work  of  the  United  States  Coast  Survey 
 is  closely  connected  with  navigation.  The  object 
 of  (his  survey  is  to  make  an  accurate  map  of  our 
 thousands  of  miles  of  sea  coast,  to  place  upon  charts 
 the  positions  of  the  channels,  the  shoals,  the  reefs, 
 and  dangerous  rocks.  This  is  a  work  of  great  prac- 
 tical utility,  for  it  diminishes  the  risk  ot  the  life  and 
 property  involved  in  navigation,  and  thus  diminishes  the 
 cost  of  imports.  But  the  work  of  the  Coast  Survey  has 
 been  extended,  so  as  to  include  a  trigonometrical  survey 
 of  the  whole  country.  This  will  form  the  basis  of  a 
 complete  topographical  map,  which,  in  turn  will  serve 
 as  a  basis  for  Agricultural  and  Geological  surveys. 
 Prof.  J .  E.  Hilgard,  of  the  Coast  Survey,  speaking  of 
 the  difficulties  under  which  we  labor  in  most  parts  of 
 our  country  for  the  want  of  such  surveys  says:  "In  the 
 attempt  to  put  together  the  local  plans  of  townships  and 
 counties,  irreconcilable  differences,  often  amounting  to 
 several  miles,  are  encountered.  The  accepted  geograph- 
 ical positions  of  capitals  are  found  greatly  in  error  when 
 determined  In  accurate  means.  A  river  boundary,  such 
 as  the  Ohio,  when  drawn  from  the  data  available  for  one 
 state  will  differ  widely  from  that  constructed  for  an  ad- 
 joining   one." 
 
 The  ordinary  land  surveys  cannot  be  made  the 
 basis  of  a  topographical  map,  for  these  surveys  were 
 made  on  the  supposition  that  the  surface  of  the  earth 
 is  a  plane,  whereas  it  is  really  spherical,  and  any  at- 
 tempt to  fit  together  such  surveys,  so  as  to  make  a  map 
 of  a  state,  will  result  in  a  failure,  because  a  plane  sur- 
 face cannot   be  made   to   fit  the  surface   of  a  sphere. 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.  FlCKLIN.  139 
 
 It'  we  had  an  accurate  topographical  map  of  our 
 state  it  would  be  of  great  value  to  us.  If  a  new  rail- 
 road is  to  be  built,  or  if  a  town  or  city  is  to  be  sup- 
 plied with  water  brought  from  a  distant  point  by- 
 aqueducts,  Engineers  must  be  employed  to  survey 
 two  or  three  routes,  and  then  the  managers  get  to- 
 gether and  decide  which  route  is  the  cheapest  and  best. 
 But  if  we  had  a  topographical  map  ot  the  state,  an  ex- 
 pert could  sit  in  his  room  with  the  map  before  him,  and 
 in  a  few  minutes  locate  the  line  of  the  road  or  of  the 
 water  supply.  Other  illustrations  of  the  advantages  of  a 
 perfect  map  could  be  given  but  it  is  unnecessary.  As  a 
 good  house-keeper  knows  her  house  from  cellar  to  gar- 
 ret, so  a  nation  ought  to  know  its  own  domain.  I  need 
 not  say,  that  unless  a  man  is  a  good  mathematician,  he 
 would  have  no  difficulty  in  being  excused  from  taking 
 part  in  these    surveys. 
 
 Again,  our  government  has  established  Military 
 and  Naval  schools  in  which  mathematics  is  made  the 
 basis  oi  instruction.  The  course  of  Mathematics  in 
 these  schools  is  more  extended  than  in  any  of  the  other 
 institutions  in  this  country.  Why  is  this  so?  and  why 
 have  other  enlightened  governments  done  the  same 
 thing?  It  is  because  there  is  a  profound  conviction,  on 
 the  part  of  those  in  authority,  that  a  severe  drill  in 
 Mathematical  studies  is  the  best  means  for  preparing 
 men  to   command    armies   and   navies. 
 
 The  work  of  the  civil  engineer  is  practical.  He  builds 
 railroads,  tunnels  mountains,  and  spans  our  great  rivers 
 with  bridges,  thus  making  all  parts  of  the  country  easily 
 accessible,  and  making  near  neighbors  of  states  lying  at 
 opposite  extremities  of  our  vast  territory.  He  has  liter- 
 ally bound  together  the  States  of  this  union  by  iron 
 bands,   stronger  than   hayonets,   bills    of  civil    rights,  or 
 
140  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 constitutional  amendments.  It  is  impossible  for  us  to  re- 
 alize, fully,  the  extent  and  advantages  ot  the  work  of 
 the  engineer.  We  would  indeed  be  in  a  sad  plight 
 without  our  bridges,  our  turnpikes  and  our  railroads.  It 
 is  needless  to  say  that  a  thorough  course  of  mathematics 
 is  the  only  road  to  success  in  engineering.  In  corrobora- 
 tion of  this,  competent  judges  have  decided  that  our  army 
 engineers,  graduates  of  West  Point,  stand  at  the  head  of 
 the  profession. 
 
 But  at  this  point  some  one  is  ready  to  ask,  are  not 
 Chemistry,  Physics,  Mechanics,  Mineralogy,  Natural 
 History  and  Astronomy  of  practical  utility?  They 
 are  certainly,  but  you  will  soon  see  that  Mathematics 
 has  complete  possession  of  some  of  these,  and  that  it 
 has  acquired  large  territory  in  the  others. 
 
 The  student  of  Chemistry  soon  finds  that  each  ele- 
 ment has  a  combining  number,  that  atoms  unite  with 
 each  other  in  certain  fixed  and  definite  ratios.  He  does 
 not  proceed  very  far  until  he  meets  with  equations  to  be 
 solved,  and  before  he  can  master  the  subject  he  will  find 
 use  for  the  higher  mathematics. 
 
 In  Physics  also  mathematics  is  prominent.  It  has 
 already  almost  complete  possession  of  sound,  light,  and 
 heat,  and  recently  I  saw  the  statement  that  Prof.  Peirce 
 of  Cambridge  was  lecturing  on  the  mathematical  theory 
 of  electricity. 
 
 Mechanics  treats  of  the  parallelogram  of  forces,  the 
 theory  of  falling  bodies,  the  parabolic  path  of  projectiles, 
 the  motion  of  bodies  down  inclined  planes  and  in  curves; 
 in  fact,  the  student  soon  finds  that  Mechanics  is  simply 
 applied  mathematics,  and  that  he  will  need  both  Ana- 
 lytical Geometry  and  the  Calculus  to  understand  all  the 
 principles. 
 
 In  Mineralogy  there  is  need  of  mathematics.   There 
 
LECTURE  OF    PROF.  FICKLfN.  141 
 
 are  hexagonal  prisms,  tetraedrons,  hexaedrons,  octae- 
 drons,  rhombic  dodecaedrons  and  other  geometrical 
 forms.  Thus,  in  crystalization  nature  works  by  the  rules 
 of  geometry. 
 
 The  naturalist  finds  that  the  bones  of  animals  are 
 constituted  in  accordance  with  the  mathematical  theory 
 of  the  strength  and  stress  of  materials;  that  the  honey 
 bee  forms  its  cell  in  such  a  manner  as  to  combine  a  max- 
 imum of  space  with  a  minimum  of  material. 
 
 Arago  in  his  eulogy  on  LaPlace  says:  "Astronomy 
 is  the  science  of  which  the  human  mind  may  most  justly 
 boast.  It  owes  this  indisputable  pre-eminence  to  the  ele- 
 vated nature  of  its  object,  to  the  grandeur  of  its  means  of 
 investigation,  to  the  certainty,  the  utility,  and  the  unparal- 
 leled magnificence  of  its  results."  Some  ambitious  youth 
 who  does  not  like  Mathematics,  now  comes  forward  and 
 says:  "Ah!  that  is  just  what  I  have  always  thought,  I 
 never  did  like  arithmetic  and  algebra,  and  I  wish  to  study 
 the  sublime  science  of  Astronomy.  He  applies  for  admis- 
 sion to  the  class  in  that  subject,  but  finds  some  slight 
 difficulty  in  being  admitted  as  "a  member  in  good  stand- 
 ing and  full  fellowship."  Nevertheless  he  is  admitted 
 as  a  visitor.  Very  well.  He  goes  into  the  Observatory, 
 and,  after  looking  at  the  instruments,  he  is  more  firmly 
 convinced  than  ever  that  he  will  like  Astronomy.  He 
 gazes  with  admiration  upon  mighty  worlds  moving  in 
 their  appointed  orbits  in  the  depths  of  space;  he  looks 
 with  astonishment  and  delight  upon  some  brilliant 
 comet;  he  is  enraptured  with  the  telescopic  views  of 
 Jupiter  and  his  wonderful  system  of  rings;  he  becomes 
 still  more  interested  when  he  turns  the  telescope  upon 
 our  moon,  and  begins  to  examine  its  mountains  and  val- 
 leys; he  imagines  that  in  these  remote  regions  of  space, 
 he  will  not  encounter  that  measuring,  syllogistic  science 
 
142  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 commonly  called  Mathematics.  He  observes  one  thing 
 after  a  while,  however,  that  renders  him  a  little  uneasy. 
 If  an  eclipse  of  the  Sun  or  Moon,  or  of  one  of  Jupiter's 
 satellites,  a  transit  of  Venus  or  Mercury,  or  the  passage 
 of  a  star  across  the  meridian  is  predicted,  he  finds  that 
 the  event  verifies  the  prediction;  it  comes  to  time;  it 
 meets  its  appointment  with  a  precision  that  is  absolutely 
 startling.  This  looks  a  little  mathematical.  But  he 
 proceeds.  He  has  a  desire  to  know  how  the  diameters, 
 distances,  masses,  orbits  and  times  of  revolutions  of  the 
 planets  are  calculated;  he  would  find  the  height  of 
 lunar  mountains,  the  depth  of  lunar  valleys,  and  the  time 
 of  the  comet's  return.  But  here  serious  trouble  begins; 
 he  finds  that  the  planets  are  oblate  spheroids;  that  they 
 revolve  upon  axes  variously  inclined  to  the  planes  of 
 their  orbits;  that  they  describe  ellipses  having  the  Sun 
 in  one  of  the  foci.  He  hears  something  said  about  ec- 
 centricity, true  and  mean  anomaly,  precession  of  the 
 equinoxes,  nutation,  aberration  of  light,  centripetal  and 
 centiifugal  forces;  but  he  has  no  clear  and  satisfactory 
 conception  of  these  terms,  because  they  involve  geome- 
 try and  the  higher  mathematics.  The  young  man  has 
 made  a  great  mistake.  He  supposed  that  "star  gazing" 
 was  astronomy,  and  after  gazing  until  he  becomes  satis- 
 fied, he  ceases  to  attend  the  recitations  even  as  a  visitor. 
 The  value  of  the  study  of  mathematics  as  a  prepa- 
 ration for  Astronomy  is  admirably  set  forth  by  Sir  John 
 Hesschel  in  the  introduction  to  his  Outlines  of  Astrono- 
 my. He  says:  "Admission  to  its  sanctuary,  and  to  the 
 privileges  and  feelings  of  a  votary,  is  only  to  be  gained 
 by  one  means,  sound  and  sufficient  knowledge  of  mathe- 
 matics, the  great  instrument  of  all  exact  inquiry,  with- 
 out which  no  man  can  ever  make  such  advances  in  this 
 or  any  other  of  the  higher  departments  of  science  as  can 
 
LECTURE  OF    FROE.  FICKLTN.  148 
 
 entitle  him  to  form  an  independent  opinion  on  any  sub- 
 ject of  discussion    within    their  range." 
 
 Mathematics  is  useful  in  history  for  the  purpose  of 
 fixing  dates.  The  astronomer  can  extend  his  calcula- 
 tions backward  for  thousands  of  years,  and  fix  the  time 
 of  every  eclipse  of  the  Sun  or  Moon.  The  historian 
 finds  among  the  imperfect  records  of  antiquity  the  state- 
 ment, that  a  great  battle  was  fought  at  a  certain  place; 
 but  there  is  an  uncertainty  of  three  or  four  years,  it  may 
 be,  as  to  the  time.  A  circumstance,  however,  enables 
 the  astronomer  to  find  the  time.  It  was  stated  that  there 
 was  a  total  eclipse  of  the  Sun  during  the  battle.  He 
 examines  the  table  of  eclipses,  and  is  at  once  enabled  to 
 fix  the  precise  date  of  the  battle,  for  a  total  eclipse  of  the 
 Sun  is  a  very  rare  occurrence    in  any  one  place. 
 
 Mathernatics  ls  a  valuable  adjunct  in  the  Evidences 
 of  Christianity.  Mcllvaine  bases  a  strong  argument  in 
 favor  of  the  truth  of  Christianity  upon  the  mathemat- 
 ical theory   of  probabilities. 
 
 There  is  no  doubt  but  that  Political  Economy  will, 
 in  due  time,  be  considered  as  a  branch  of  mathematics, 
 and,  even  at  this  time,  no  one  should  attempt  to  write 
 on  that  subject,  unless  he  has  had  a  good  deal  of  experi- 
 ence in  discussing  the  relations  of  quantities. 
 
 Again,  mathematics  has  done  the  world  great  ser- 
 vice in  ridding  it  of  scientific  romances.  Many  a  beau- 
 tiful theory  has  become  a  vanishing  quantity  as  soon  as 
 mathematics  looks  it  in  the  face.  I  might  proceed  to 
 show  that  mathematics  is  useful  in  Geology,  Botany, 
 Music,  Fainting  and  Sculpture;  but  let  this  suffice. 
 
 An  individual  may  neglect  mathematics,  but  a  na- 
 tion cannot  do  so  and  remain  properous;  this  is  sutricient- 
 ly  proved  by  what  has  already  been  said;  and  let  me 
 say  there  are  special  reasons    for  encouraging   the  study 
 
144:  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 of  mathematics  in  this  country.  Ours  is  a  comparative- 
 ly new  country ;  our  vast  resources  are  only  very  partial- 
 ly developed;  new  roads  are  to  be  built;  new  mines 
 opened;  our  rivers  improved;  and  topographical  surveys 
 to  be  made. 
 
 These  statements  are  especially  applicable  to  our 
 own  great  State.  We  are  doing  all  we  can  in  this  insti- 
 tution, to  prepare  young  men  to  do  this  work,  and 
 already  some  of  ihe  graduates  of  the  department  of 
 Engineering  hold  important  and  responsible  positions  in 
 our  river  surveys,  and  we  intend  to  put  more  of  them 
 into  such  places.  The  young  men  of  the  West  are  just 
 as  good  material,  out  of  which  to  make  skillful  astrono- 
 mers and  engineers,  as  those  of  the  East,  and  if  there  is 
 a  difference,  it  is  in  our  favor;  and  I  feel  that  if  Mis- 
 souri does  not  stand  in  the  front  rank,  it  is  not  for  the 
 want  of  ability- 
 
 While  on  the  subject  of  the  practical,  I  will  say 
 that  it  is  my  firm  conviction  that  all  scientific  truth  is 
 ^practical.  We  may  not  be  able  to  see  the  practical 
 bearings  of  a  principle  as  soon  as  it  is  discovered ;  but 
 you  may  rest  assured  that  some  time  or  other  it  will  be 
 applied  to  the  practical  affairs  of  life.  When  the  Greek 
 geometers  discovered  the  properties  of  the  ellipse,  they 
 could  not  see  that  these  properties  were  of  any  practical 
 use.  But  Kepler  proved  that  the  planets  revolve  in 
 ellipses  having  the  Sun  in  one  of  the  foci. 
 
 But  let  us  now  return  to  that  young  man  who  was 
 excused  from  astronomy  because  he  had  neglected  math- 
 ematics. He  would  like  to  know  where  he  shall  go  in 
 the  study  of  nature  to  avoid  mathematics.  For  my  part, 
 I  cannot  tell  him,  but,  in  Mansfield's  lecture  on  the  Util- 
 ity of  Mathematics,  this  very  question  is  answered,  and 
 I  here  give  that  answer  in  full :   "Yes,  he  who  would 
 
LECTURE    OF   PROF.  FICKLIN.  146 
 
 shun  Mathematics  must  fly  the  bounds  of  flaming  space, 
 and  in  the  realms  of  chaos,  that 
 
 dark, 
 
 Illimitable  ocean," 
 where  Milton's  Satan  wandered  from  the  wrath  of 
 heaven,  he  may  possibly  find  some  spot  visited  by  no 
 figure  of  geometry,  and  no  iiarmony  of  proportion. 
 But  nature,  this  beautiful  creation  of  God,  has  no  resting 
 place  for  him.  All  its  construction  is  mathematical',  all 
 its  uses  are  reasonable',  all  its  ends  harmonious.  It  has 
 no  elements  mixed  without  regulated  law;  no  broken 
 chord  to  make  a  false  note  in  the  music  of  the   spheres," 
 
 ER  RATA 
 
 Page  127,  line  1 — quod  instead  of  quad. 
 
 Page  127,  line  8,  from  bottom — "cultivation"  instead  of  "cul- 
 tivalion." 
 
 Page  128,  line  14 — "answer"  instead  of  "anwser;"  and  in  last 
 line  on  same  page  "form"  instead  of  "from." 
 
 On  same  page,  there  ought  to  be  no  paragraph  at  "At  one 
 time  a  writer,"  &c 
 
THE  THREE  PRONUNCIATIONS  OF  LATIN. 
 
 By    M.  M.  Fisher,    Professor    of    Latin    in     the 
 University  of  the  State  of   Missouri. 
 
 The  subject  of  my  lecture  was  "Rome  and  Car- 
 thage on  the  Metaurus."  My  time  out  of  the  class- 
 room was  employed  in  preparing-  matter  for  the  press, 
 and,  as  a  consequence,  the  lecture  was  delivered  extem- 
 poraneously. When  the  manuscripts  were  called  for  to 
 take  their  places  in  the  present  volume,  leisure  hours 
 were  still  occupied  in  the  same  way. 
 
 tin  pronunciation  has  claimed  unusual  attention 
 for  year-  past  and  the  discussion  is  likely  to  continue  for 
 years  to  come.  The  space  due  my  lecturejw  ill  he  oc- 
 cupied with  extracts  from  a  work  just  from  the  press 
 entitled,  "The  Three  Pronunciations  of  Latin.'1  ,  1  ne 
 hope  is  entertained  that  these  short  extracts  will  not  he 
 unacceptable  to  those  who  are  interested  in  a  subject 
 that  receives  marked  attention  from  scholars' Tboth  in 
 Europe  and  America. 
 
 three  methods  of  pronouncing  Latin  in 
 
 use  in  the  United  .States,  all  of  which  are  regarded  as 
 scholarly,  viz.,  the  Continental,  the  Roman,  and  the 
 English. 
 
148  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 THE    CONTINENTAL    SYSTEM. 
 
 It  is  very  common  among  the  advocates  of  the  so- 
 called  Roman  method  of  pronouncing  Latin,  to  speak 
 of  the  so-called  Continental  system  as  a  "natural  ally"  of 
 the  Phonetic  mode;  to  affirm  that  "the  united  forces  of 
 the  Roman  and  Continental  methods  are  encroaching  on 
 the  narrowing  domains  of  the  English  system.1'  Such 
 statements  may  create  a  sympathy  between  the  two  sys- 
 tems, but  they  are  not  founded  on  fact,  and  their  ten- 
 dency is  to  mislead  those  who  have  not  examined  the 
 subject  with  some  care.  Some  ardent  reformers  would 
 make  the  impression  that  if  their  system  should  prevail 
 in  England  and  America,  then  the  "vexed  question" 
 would  be  settled,  and  an  "international  pronunciation" 
 would  at  once  become  a  reality.  The  truth  in  the  case 
 will  at  once  make  manifest  the  fallacy. 
 
 Harkness  says:  "Strictly  speaking,  there  is  no 
 Continental  method."  Bullions  and  Morris  speak  of  it 
 as  the  "so-called  Continental  pronunciation."  These 
 statements  are  in  accordance  with  the  facts.  For  cen- 
 turies the  law  of  nations  has  been  for  each  to  pronounce 
 Latin  after  the  analogy  of  its  own  tongue.  As  there  is 
 such  variety  on  the  Continent,  some  of  the  ablest 
 scholars  in  the  United  States,  who  use  the  so-called  Con- 
 tinental mode,  to  make  the  matter  explicit,  state  that 
 they  use  the  sounds  of  the  vowels  and  diphthongs  as 
 heard  in  the  Italian. 
 
 One  of  the  chief  arguments  for  the  adoption  of 
 what  scholars  strangely  enough  call  the  Continental  sys- 
 tem, has  been  that  it  would  enable  learned  men,  by 
 means  of  a  common  pronunciation,  to  make  themselves 
 intelligible  all  over  Europe.  This  idea  of  gramma- 
 rians and  others  is  founded  on  an  utter  misapprehen- 
 sion of  the  facts.     There  is  not  now,  and  there  has  never 
 
LECTURE    OF  PROF.  FISHER.  149 
 
 b  i,  any  international  identity  in  the  pronunciation  of 
 the  Latin,  and  this  is  especially  true  of  Continental 
 Europe.  There  is  a  general  agreement  in  the  vowel 
 sounds,  but  in  the  consonants,  which  make  articulate 
 speech  what  it  is,  there  is  very  great  diversity  of  sound. 
 Each  nation  has  its  own  phase,  of  what  American 
 scholars  term  the  Continental  mode.  There  is  the 
 French  phase,  the  Spanish  phase,  the  Italian  phase,  the 
 Hungarian  phase,  the  Swedish  phase,  and  the  German 
 phase;  and,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  there  arc  sharply 
 defined  varieties  of  the  Continental  method  in  nse  in 
 the  different  German  States.  What  has  just  been  said  is 
 a  sample  of  an  actual  state  of  facts  as  existing  on  the 
 Continent  at  this  hour.  Esch.mburg,  on  page  550  of  his 
 "Classical  Literature,"  says: — 
 
 "It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  the  Frenchman,  Ger- 
 man,  and  Italian,  in  pronouncing  Latin,  each  yields  to 
 the  analogies  of  his  own  tongue.  Each  of  them  may 
 condemn  the  others,  while  each  commits  the  same  error, 
 or,  rather,  follows  in  truth  the  same  general  rule. 
 
 "Erasmus  --ays  he  was  present  at  a  levee  of  one  of 
 the  German  princes  where  most  of  the  European  am- 
 bassadors were  present;  and  it  was  agreed  that  the  con- 
 versation should  lie  carried  on  in  Latin.  It  was  so;  but 
 you  would  have  thought,  adds  he,  'that  all  Babel  had 
 come  together.' "  All  those  speaking  were  using  the 
 Continental  method. 
 
 How  the  native  tongue-  on  the  Continent  pro- 
 nounce Latin,  after  their  own  analogies,  may  be  seen 
 from  a  glance  at  the  Romance  languages  of  Southern 
 Europe,  the  French,  Italian,  Portuguese,  and  Spanish,  to 
 which  the  Latin  stands  in  the  relation  of  a  common 
 progenitor.      The  letters  r,  g,  /,  and  v  will  be  sufficient: 
 
150  UNIVERSITY    OP   MISSOURI. 
 
 FRENCH.  ITALIAN. 
 
 c=s,  before  e,  i,  and   y.         c=ch  in  cherry,  before  e,  i, 
 g=s  in  pleasure,  before  c,  i,         and  y. 
 
 and  y.  g==S"  in  gem. 
 
 j==z  in  azure.  j=ee  in  fee  (a  vowel). 
 
 V==v,  as  in  English.  v=v  in   English. 
 
 PORTUGUESE.  SPANISH. 
 
 c=s,  as  in  French.  c=th  in  pith,  before  e  and  i. 
 
 g=s,  as  in  French.  g— ch  guttural. 
 
 j— z,  as  in  French.  j=ch    guttural,    before    all 
 
 v=v,  as  in  English.  vowels. 
 
 v=v,  as  in  English. 
 Notice  the  German  also: 
 c=ts  before  e  and  i.  S==S  m  »0, 
 
 V=f.  j=y. 
 
 As  an  example  of  pronunciation  in  the  languages 
 named,  take  Cicero: 
 
 French,  Cicevo^Seesayro.     Italian,  Cicevo=C/ieec/zay- 
 Portuguese,    Cicero=  See-  ro. 
 
 sayro.  Spanish,     Cicero  =  7'hee- 
 
 German,Cicero=7V<?e/.?<ry-  thayro; 
 
 ro. 
 
 J.  F.  Richardson,  one  of  the  ablest  of  Roman  Lat- 
 inists,  uses  the  following  language: 
 
 "In  the  second  j^lace,  it  is  an  entire  mistake  to  speak 
 of  the  'Continental  method'  of  pronouncing  Latin. 
 There  is,  in  fact,  no  common  Continental  system,  but 
 there  are  several  Continental  systems  of  Latin  pronun- 
 ciation, e.  g\,  German,  Italian,  French,  Spanish.  These 
 four  agree,  to  be  sure,  substantially  in  regard  to  the 
 vowels;  but  in  other  important  points  they  differ  decid- 
 edly both  from  the  English  and  from  each  other,  most 
 of  the  diphthongs  and  some  of  the  most  important  con- 
 sonants being  sounded  differently  in  all  five.     The  idea, 
 
LECTURE  OP   PROF.  FISHER.  151 
 
 therefore,  that  he  who  combines  the  German  vowel 
 sounds  with  the  English  dipththongal  and  consonant 
 sounds  has  the  Continental  system,  or  any  Continental 
 system  of  Latin  pronunciation,  is  simply  absurd. 
 
 "Of  the  six  different  systems  of  Latin  pronuncia- 
 tion, then,  prevailing  in  Western  Europe  and  our  own 
 country,  five  are  strictly  national.  Their  differences 
 find  at  once  an  original  and  an  explanation  in  the  fact 
 that  the  scholars  of  each  nation  have  followed,  in  their 
 pronunciations  of  Latin,  the  analogies  of  their  own  ver- 
 nacular. In  this  way,  while  making  sure  of  mutual  dis- 
 agreement, all  have  departed  more  or  less  from  the  true 
 Roman  method,  and  the  whole  subject  has  been  involved 
 in  uncertainty  and  confusion.  Meanwhile  the  pseudo- 
 Continental  system,  destitute  alike  of  historical  dignity 
 and  scientific  accuracy,  and  lacking  even  the  po.or  sup- 
 port of  national  prejudice  and  pride,  is  powerless  to 
 mediate  and  compose  these  differences.  Although  it 
 undoubtedly  avoids  some  of  the  grossest  absurdities  pe- 
 culiar to  the  English  system,  it  lacks  the  elements  which 
 command  respect,  and  can  never  establish  a  claim  to 
 universal  adoption  and  use." 
 
 Before  passing  to  the  next  point,  let  attention  be 
 carefully  fixed  on  several  facts  indisputably  settled:  i. 
 That  no  phase  of  the  Continental  system  of  Europe  pro- 
 fesses to  be  the  true  ancient  pronunciation;  2.  That  no 
 two  of  them  agree  in  the  sounds  of  the  consonants;  3. 
 That  the  so-called  Roman  pronunciation  does  not  agree 
 with  a  single  one  of  them  in  either  vowels  or  consonants, 
 — as,  for  instance,  Cicero,  pronounced  Kee-ke-ro,  cer- 
 tainly differs  from  the  French  See-say -ro,  the  Italian 
 Chee-ckay-ro,  the  Spanish  Thee-thay-ro  and  the  Ger- 
 man Tseet-say-ro;  4.  That  the  so-called  Roman  differs 
 more  widely  from  the  Italian  than  from  the  other  .Ro- 
 
152  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 mance  tongues, — a  fact  not  a  little  significant  when  we 
 remember  that  the  Italian  is  spoken  on  the  very  soil  ren- 
 dered almost  sacred  to  the  scholar  by  the  hallowed 
 memories  of  the  Latin  language;  5.  That  when  Amer- 
 icans use  the  Continental  they  do  not  sound  the  conso- 
 nants like  any  nation  or  tribe  on  the  continent  of  Europe. 
 They  approximate  the  vowel  sounds  of  the  Continent, 
 but  almost  invariably  pronounce  the  consonants  as  in 
 English.  Hence  the  so-called  Continental  of  America 
 is  a  combination  of  foreign  vowel  sounds  with  conso- 
 nants uttered  almost  universally  as  in  English  words. 
 Whatever  the  theories  of  teachers  may  be,  this  is  a  stub- 
 born practical  fact.  We  have  in  this  country,  therefore, 
 the  American  phase  of  the  Continental  method,  the 
 conglomerate  variety,  differing  from  every  other  variety 
 of  that  system  on  the  globe. 
 
 ROMAN   METHOD. 
 
 Twenty  years  ago  there  were  only  two  methods 
 used  in  the  United  States,  the  English  and  the  Conti- 
 nental, and  popular  favor  was  rather  with  the  former. 
 In  what  is  called  the  Latin,  or  Reformed  mode,  Prof. 
 Haldeman,  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  enjoys, 
 and  deservedly,  the  reputation  of  being  the  first  explorer. 
 His  work  was  published  as  early  as  1851.  That  mode 
 now,  however,  is  most  intimately  associated  with  the 
 name  of  Corssen,  in  Germany,  and  Roby,  in  England, 
 whose  exhaustive  works  would  be  an  honor  to  any  na- 
 tion. Both  works  have  been  published  in  the  last  twenty 
 years.  Prof.  Lane,  of  Boston,  introduced  the  Roman 
 pronunciation  in  New  England,  and  its  introduction  in 
 the  South  is  largely  due  to  Prof.  Blair,  of  Hampden 
 Sidney,  Virginia,  and  Prof.  Gildersleeve,  of  Johns  Hop- 
 kins University,  Baltimore.  Whatever  conquests  that 
 system  has  made  anywhere  in  the  world,  have  been 
 achieved  within  the  brief  space  of  ten  years  past. ' 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.   FISHER.  158 
 
 But  what  does  this  new  mode  claim?  Why,  it 
 claims  to  he  the  genuine  Latin  «mcrhod,  the  true  ancient 
 pronunciation  restored ;  to  pronounce  words  as  they  fell 
 from  the  lips  of  Cicero,  Virgil  and  Horace.  If  this 
 claim  be  well  founded,  then  it  is  no  new  doctrine,  but  a 
 very  old  one.  Any  dissent  in  this  treatise  from  the  opin- 
 ions of  others,  however  emphatic  the  dissent  may  be,  is 
 made  with  the  profoundest  regard  for  the  distinguished 
 scholars  who  have  written  in  favor  of  the'Roman  meth- 
 od. But  a  system  with  such  pretensions  must  abide,  as  it 
 professes  to  do,  the  results  of  the  crucible.  Roby  himself 
 in  his  Preface  says:  "An  inquiry  into  classical  Latin  is 
 [an  inquiry]  into  a  pronunciation  which  has  not  been 
 uttered  by  an  accredited  representative  for  the  last  sev- 
 enteen hundred  years."  (Page  30,  edition  of  187 1.) 
 Yet  they  have  gone  back  and  brought  down  to  our  day 
 a  pronunciation  which  purports  not  to  differ  from  that  of 
 Cicero  "more  than  the  pronunciation  of  educated  men  in 
 one  part  of  England  would  differ  from  that  heard  in 
 other  parts."     (Robv.) 
 
 On  what  are  these  claims  based? 
 
 1.  The  Latin  grammarians:  beginning  with  Varro, 
 64  B.  C,  and  coming  down  to  Priscianus  Cajsariensis, 
 who  taught  at  Constantinople,  570  A.  D.  In  reference 
 to  these  grammarians,  Prof.  Blair,  in  his  introduction, 
 says:  "To  whose  instructions  we  must  now  turn,  in 
 order  to  gather  by  inference,  and  not  without  great  care 
 and  pains,  the  information  which  might  have  been  easily 
 and  more  certainly  had  by  spending  an  hour  with  the 
 Roman  boys  in  their  elementary  school." 
 
 2.  The  information  gleaned  from  grammarians  is 
 compared  with  three  sources  of  probable  proof." 
 
 (a)  The  traditions  of  scholars  and  the  modern  Ro- 
 manic languages. 
 
164  CTNIVBKSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 (b)  The  Greek  mode  of  rendering  Latin  sounds 
 into  their  tongue.  The  Greeks  attempted  to  imitate  the 
 Latin  sounds  as  perfectly  as  their  letters  would  allow. 
 
 (c)  The  third  probable  proof  is  "the  face  of  the 
 language  itself,  as  seen  in  its  records  which  have  been 
 preserved  to  us." 
 
 For  these  three  positions  reference  may  be  made  to 
 Prof.  Blair's  work,  one  of  the  best  yet  published  on  this 
 subject  in  America. 
 
 A  source  of  testimony  much  relied  on  by  Roman 
 Latinists  is  the  modern  Romance  languages  of  Southern 
 Europe, — a  point  which  shall  receive  proper  attention 
 as  we  proceed. 
 
 But  what  kind  of  evidence  is  it  upon  which  these 
 lotty  claims  are  based?  The  answer  is,  and  must  in  the 
 nature  of  the  case  be,  "Probable  evidence." 
 
 It  is  not  at  all  our  design  in  this  discussion  to  under- 
 value probable  or  moral  evidence.     Far  from  it. 
 
 The  countless  facts  of  history,  of  the  sciences,  and 
 of  Christianity  itself  rest  on  this  kind  of  proof. 
 
 The  human  mind  is  so  constituted  as  to  rest  with  as 
 much  confidence  in  probable  evidence  of  the  degree  of 
 moral  certainty  as  in  demonstrative  or  mathematical  evi- 
 dence. We  do  not  object  to  the  so-called  Roman 
 method  because  its  basis  is  moral  evidence,  as  from  the 
 nature  of  the  case  it  can  admit  of  no  other  kind,  but  be- 
 cause it  is  destitute  of  that  measure  of  evidence  of  this 
 kind  which  would  entitle  it  to  our  acceptance;  and  our 
 critics  who  drew  a  contrary  meaning  from  our  words 
 fell  into  very  strange  misapprehensionsions  of  statements 
 designed  to  be  plain  to  all,  viz.: 
 
 Probable  evidence  presents  various  degrees  of  strength.  In 
 the  lowest  form,  it  warrants  only  presumption  ;  in  the  highest  de- 
 gree, it  warrants  moral  certainty.     In  the  face  of  the  -conflicting 
 
LECTURE  OF   PROF.  FISHER.  155 
 
 opinions  and  difficulties  to  be  shown  hereafter,  no  scholar  can 
 make  the  least  pretension  that  the  resurrected  system  rests  on  any- 
 such  basis  as  moral  certainty  Far  from  it.  Man}'  points  are 
 destitute  of  even  presumptive  evidence  in  their  support. 
 
 What  we  object  to  is  the  hasty  position  taken  by 
 some  enthusiastic  scholars  that  there  has  already  been 
 made  out  even  the  lowest  grade  of  probable  evidence, 
 even  a  mere  presumption,  in  favor  of  the  so-called 
 Roman  method  over  the  Continental  or  English,  which 
 at  once  decides  the  question,  and  ail,  nolens  volens,  must 
 logically  fall  into  the  ranks  of  the  Roman  Latinists  and 
 flout  all  who  dare  to  differ  and  refuse  to  enter  their  air- 
 castles,  built  or  unvindicated,  as  wanting  in  logic  and  in 
 regard  for  moral  evidence.  Such  pretensions  are  hasty 
 and  unwarranted.  We  affirm  boldly  and  explicitly, 
 and  hold  ourselves  responsible  to  prove,  that  while 
 some  parts  of  the  resurrected  system,  but  not  peculiar 
 to  it,  present  a  plausible  claim  to  authenticity,  oth- 
 er and  essential  parts  are  groundless,  perplexing,  and 
 violently  improbable.  Instead  of  the  new  system  being 
 established  in  the  judgment  of  the  classic  world,  as  is 
 urged  in.  certain  quarters,  its  ablest  advocates  in  Europe 
 and  America  concede  that  some  of  its  features  are 
 wholly  unsettled.  And  yet  the  men  who  hold  this  po- 
 sition are  the  very  men  who  have  the  right  to  recogni- 
 tion as  the  leading  spirits  in  this  reform  movement. 
 Some  of  those  who  are  the  most  positive  in  their  lan- 
 guage are  least  known  as  classical  scholars. 
 
 We  now  find  ourselves  face  to  face  with  two  or 
 three  questions  which  are  entirely  distinct:  I.  Do  we 
 know  the  true  ancient  pronunciation  of  Latin?  2.  Shall 
 we  adopt  the  so-called  Roman  system?  3.  A  third 
 question  also  is  pertinent,  If  the  new  mede  rested  on  a 
 universally  acknowledged  foundation  of  moral  certainty, 
 
156  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 should  it  be  adopted  by  English-speaking  people? 
 Most  unhesitatingly  and  unequivocally  Ave  answer, 
 "No,"  to  all  three  of  these  interrogations.  These  in- 
 quiries put  the  case  so  plainly  before  the  reader  that 
 it  is  hoped  no  one  will  misunderstand  it.  In  regai-d 
 to  the  first  inquiry,  Do  we  know  the  true  pronunci- 
 ation? the  distinguished  Latinist  of  Yale  College,  Prof. 
 Thacher,  in  his  Pretace  to  Madvig's  Grammar,  af- 
 firms :  "How  the  Romans  themselves  pronounced  their 
 language  is  not  known,  nor  can  it  ever  be  known. 
 Scholars  may  not  agree  in  opinion  in  respect  to  the  ex- 
 tent of  this  ignorance;  but  if  it  were  in  itself  very  lim 
 ited,  pertaining,  for  instance,  only  to  the  sound  of  a  single 
 letter,  it  might  with  reason  be  made  an  objection  to  any 
 attempt  to  imitate  the  original  pronunciation  of  the  lan- 
 guage; for  the  number  of  distinct  sounds  is  so  small  in 
 such  a  language  as  the  Latin  or  our  own,  that  every  one 
 of  them  runs  like  a  thread  through  every  page,  and  con- 
 stitutes an  important  element  of  it.  The  difficulties 
 which  attend  this  subject  are  inherent  in  it,  are  such  that 
 there  is  no  nation  in  Europe,  the  classical  scholars  of 
 which  agree  in  claiming  that  they  can  reproduce  the  pro- 
 nunciation of  the  Roman  forum,  or  in  attempting  to  do 
 so."  Haldeman,  on  page  iS  of  his  "Affixes  to  English 
 Words,"  says,  "The  Latin  alphabet  is  composed  of  the 
 following  twenty  letters,"  naming  them,  and  holding 
 that  only  nine,  B,  D,  F,  H,  N,  P,  Q,  T,  X,  had  the 
 same  power  as  in  English.  But  suppose  there  is  one 
 sound,  like  the  dipthomx  se  or  ce,  running  "like  a  thread 
 through  every  page,"  and  in  a  multitude  of  words 
 which  is  not  known  and  about  which  there  is  a  variety 
 of  opinions,  will  any  man  affirm  that  we  know  the  pro- 
 nunciation of  a  language  when  this  multitude  of  words 
 contains  an  unknown  or  at  least  a  perplexing  and  unset- 
 
LECTURE  OF   PROF.    FISHER.  157 
 
 tied  sound,  and  yet  eleven  unknown  sounds  are  conceded? 
 
 WANT    OF    HARMONY    AMONG   THE   ADVOCATBS    OF    THE 
 REFORMED  MODE. 
 
 That  the  reformers  do  not  agree  among  themselves 
 on  some  very  important  points  is  universally  conceded, 
 and  is  a  matter  claiming  at  the  hands  of  every  inquirer 
 the  most  serious  thought.  Prof.  Twining  (  Western, 
 July-August,  p.  417)  uses  this  language:  "That  the 
 advocates  of  the  reformed  pronunciation  differ  among 
 themselves  is  of  graver  import,  since  if  these  differences 
 are  on  vital  points  as  Prof.  Fisher  claims,  they  not  only 
 discredit  the  evidence,  but  render  impossible  that  uni- 
 formity of  practice  which  it  is  one  of  the  chief  objects 
 of  the  reform  to  secure."  The  consequence  of  a  differ- 
 ence in  vital  points  is  well  put  by  Prof.  Twining-  Let 
 us  examine  some  of  these  differences. 
 
 1.  There  is  no  harmony  in  their  representation  of 
 the  vowel  sounds  in  general.  Just  here  it  should  be 
 carefully  borne  in  mind  that  the  reformers  insist  that 
 their  system  is  phonetic.  Then  "each  elementary  sound 
 had  its  own  unvarying  sign,  and  each  sign  its  own  unva- 
 rying sound."  This  is,  according  to  Prof.  March,  the 
 essential  idea  of  a  phonetic  alphabet;  this,  then,  is  con- 
 ceded to  be  our  criterion  of  judgment.  Haldeman, 
 quoting  with  approval  G.  Walker,  says:  "Every  letter 
 retained  an  invariable  sound."  Quoting  from  Scheller, 
 he  says:  "The  sound  of  the  long  and  short  vowels, 
 though  elementarily  the  same,  were  always  distinguished 
 in  length."  (Haldeman's  Latin  Pronunciation,  pp.  17, 
 19.)  Allen  and  Greenough  say,  "By  the  Roman  (or 
 phonetic)  method,  every  letter  has  always  the  same 
 sound."  (Grammar,  p.  7.)  These  are  explicit  state- 
 ments of  what  is  held  by  the  new  "Romans"  throughout 
 the  world.  The  vowels  did  differ  in  quantity,  they  did 
 not  differ  in  quality. 
 
158  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 Haldeman  holds  that : — 
 Long  a=a  in  arm.  Short  a=a  in  art. 
 
 "      e=ey  in  they.  "     e=ei  in  eight. 
 
 "      i=i  in  marine.  "     i=i  in  deceit. 
 
 "      0=0  in  own.  "     0=0  in  obey. 
 
 "      u=oo  in  fool.  "     u=u  in  full. 
 
 Here   in   this   ideal  scheme,  the  phonetic  theory   is 
 substantially  carried  out. 
 
 Compare  with  this  Tafel's  scheme,  which  is  identi- 
 cal, at  least  professedly  so,  with  that  of  Corssen. 
 Long  a=a  in  father.  Short  a=same  sound  shorter. 
 
 "      e=a  in  fate.  "      e=e  in  then. 
 
 "      i=i  in  machine.  "      i=i  in  sit. 
 
 "      0=0  in  hole.  "      0=0  in  nor. 
 
 "      u=u  in  rude.  "     u=u  in  put. 
 
 A  glance  at  this  ideal  scheme  will  show  that  it  is  not 
 consistent  with  the  theory  in  the   short  sounds  of  e,  i ,  o 
 and  u.      E  in   then,  i  in   sit,  o  in    nor,  and  it  in   put   have 
 not  the  same  sound  as  a  in  fate,  i  in  machine,  o   in   hole, 
 and  u  in  rude.     These   words,  as   the  least  practised  ear 
 can   detect,  differ    not  only  in   quantity,  but   radically  in 
 quality.     A  glance  too    reveals  the    obvious    truth  that 
 Haldeman — and  J.    F.    Richardson   agrees   with   him — 
 does  not  agree  with  Tafel  and   Corssen,  in    representing 
 the  short  sounds  of  0,  /,  and  e.     Who  does  not  see  that 
 ei  in   eight,  i  in    deceit  and   o  in   obey,  are   not  the  same 
 as  e  in  then,  i  in  sit,  and  o  in  nor?     If  scholars  on  the 
 side   of  the   new   pronunciation  believe  in   the  phonetic 
 method  and  understand  it  alike,  then  failure  to  represent 
 it   harmoniously,  even  in    their  ideal   schemes,  is  simply 
 unpardonable.     Roby   tells  us   that  o  long=6>  in  home, 
 and  o  shprt=<?  in  clot.     Blair,   that   o  long=<?  in    potent, 
 and  0  short=e>  in  potation.     Roby  tells  us  that  e  h>n»'=<e 
 in  met,   lengthened,   and    that  c  short=t'  in  met.      Blair, 
 that  long  e=a  in  gate,  and  short  c=a  in  aerial. 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.  FISHER.  159 
 
 We  would  fix  emphatic  attention  on  two  things  that 
 are  self-evident:  i.  That  these  distinguished  scholars  do 
 not  agree  with  each  other;  2.  That  their  exhibition  of 
 their  favorite  pronunciation,  as  shown  in  many  writers, 
 is  not  consistent  with  their  oft- repeated  theory.  Any 
 one  who  has  any  doubts  as  to  the  correctness  of  the 
 statements  here  made  is  earnestly  requested  and  urged  to 
 examine  the  subject  for  himself. 
 
 Before  leaving  this  general  want  of  harmony  in  re- 
 gard to  vowel  sounds,  long  and  short,  it  is  worth  while 
 to  notice  how  the  followers  of  the  so-called  Roman 
 method  exhibit  to  us  the  long  sounds  of  the  vowels. 
 
 Blair  affirms  that  e  long=«  in  gate. 
 
 Roby,  that  c  long=e  in  met,  lengthened. 
 
 W.  G.  Richardson,  in  the  Report  published  by  the 
 Bureau  of  Education,  says  that  e  long=the  French  e, 
 or  e  in  met,  still  more  prolonged  than  e  in  tres.  He 
 speaks  of  fate  as  being  "a  convenient  approximate 
 sound."  In  his  "International,"  published  in  Decem- 
 ber, 1877,  he  gives  e  long=<?  in  fate.  Now  we  confess 
 our  utter  inability  to  understand  how  this  able  scholar, 
 by  the  prolongation  of  the  sound  of  e  in  met,  to  any 
 extent,  can  reach  as  a  result  a  in  fate.  Any  one  can  test 
 the  matter  by  bringing  to  bear  the  organs  of  speech  on 
 the  production  of  the  two  sounds.  Before  the  speaker, 
 when  sounding  e  in  met,  can  produce  the  sound  of  a  in 
 fate,  he  must  stop  and  readjust  the  organs.  The  trial 
 will  make  manifest  the  truth  that  there  is  not  only  a  re- 
 adjust mem,  but  also  a  tension  of  the  organs  decidedly 
 greater  in  sounding  our  genuine  long  or,  which  almost 
 all  the  Romans  make  the  representative  of  the  long  <?,  in 
 their  system. 
 
 But  to  descend  more  to  particulars,  take  the  diph- 
 thong se. 
 
160  UNIVERSITY    OP    MISSOURI. 
 
 Roby  says  os=a  in  bat  (lengthened),  or  bath. 
 
 Blair  says  ce=ai  in  lair,  or  a  in  late. 
 
 Harkness  says,  <?=aye=English  /. 
 
 Gildersleeve  says,  ce=ce  in  Gra3me=a  in  fame. 
 
 That  the  vowel  sounds  as  heard  in  bat,  late,  and  aye 
 =i  long,  are  not  the  same,  is  simply  beyond  all  contro- 
 versy. We  venture  the  assertion  that  no  scholar,  unless 
 a  foreigner,  who  looks  at  the  case  calmly,  will  risk  his 
 reputation  as  an  orthoepist  by  affirming  that  these  words 
 •do  contain  the  same  sound. 
 
 But  why  undertake  to  prove  a  want  of  harmony 
 among  those  who  insist  on  reform,  when  the  fact  is  not 
 only  virtually  but  really  confessed  by  some  of  the  most 
 enlightened  defenders  of  the  new  system?  For  instance, 
 the  writer  last  quoted  makes  this  admission:  "Since 
 phonetically,  e  lies  between  a  and  i,  this  difficulty  seems 
 to  me  to  belong  to  the  class  of  those  to  be  settled  by 
 time,  much  in  the  same  way  as  the  dispute  must  be  de- 
 cided between  English  and  American  "half."1''  Make  a 
 note  of  it  that  he  confesses  there  is  a  difficulty  to  be  set- 
 tled by  time.  This  is  an  ingenuous  and  truthful  confes- 
 sion, and  one  that  ought  to  be  made  by  every  Roman 
 Latinist  in  America.  There  is  no  escaping  it.  Our 
 point  is  made;  there  is  a  hopeless  want  of  harmony 
 upon  the  above  issues  which  are  vital  to  a  phonetic  sys- 
 tem. The  hope  of  a  future  harmony  might  be  allowed 
 were  we  dealing  with  an  ideal  case,  but,  unfortunately 
 for  the  Romanist,  our  business  in  this  discussion  is  with 
 the  past,  to  whose  crystallized  forms  no  additions  of  im- 
 portance are  likely  to  be  made  and  from  whose  dead 
 organisms  the  vocalization  of  living  utterance  has  for- 
 ever fled.  The  confusion  of  those  ideal  schemes  leaves 
 us  in  a  state  of  bewilderment  from  which,  it  would 
 appear,  nothing  less  than   the  resurrection   of  a   Roman 
 
LECTURE   OK    PROF.   FISHER.  161 
 
 more  perfectly  representing  the  native  language  than 
 even  Cicero  or  Varro,  if  the  Latin  was  settled  hi  its 
 phonetics,  would  be  able  to  release  us. 
 
 When  reduced  to  practice  in  the  class-room,  observe 
 how  these  differences  become '  painfully  evident.  For 
 illustration,  take  the  nominative  plural  of  bora,  haric : — 
 
 llora?.=//oe-ray.      Blair,  Gildersleeve,  and  others. 
 
 Hone=/ioe-/-\'c.     Harkness,  Richardson  and  others. 
 
 Hwa?=koe-ra/i.    A=a  in  ha.\f=a  in  father.    Rol'v. 
 
 Prof.  W.  G.  Richardson,  in  criticising  the  "Three 
 Pronunciations  of  Latin,"  makes  this  significant  admis- 
 sion: U-Ji  is  rather  bad,  but  by  no  means  a  Canine." 
 Coming  from  such  a  careful  and  accomplished  scholar 
 as  fie  is,  this  means  something. 
 
 Blair  gives  oe=o  in  world  <>r  i  in  whirl. 
 
 Gildersleeve,  oe=-ae  in  Graeme=tf  in  fame. 
 
 Harkness,  oe~=oi  in  coin=C'/  in  coil. 
 
 Haldeman,  oe=vowel  sound  in  showy; 
 and  says:    "If  showy    anil    clayev    were    monosyllables 
 they  would   contain  the  Latin   oe  and  e/."      Among    oth- 
 ers, "he  quotes  these  two  lines  from  "Living  Latin": 
 
 "To  these-  we  arid  that  English  words  like  "showy" 
 Contain  the  Portuguese  and  Latin  "a;." 
 
 [s  the  vowel  sound  in  world,  fame,  coil,  and  showy 
 the  same?  Surely  not.  The  differences  thrust  them- 
 selves on  even  a  casual  observer.  But  what  do  the  ad- 
 vocate-- of  the  new  system  say  about  this?  Roby  -ays, 
 comparing  the  Latin  and  Greek  oe  and  oi,  "But  the 
 Latin  sound  is  much  more  doubtful."  Again,  "The 
 sound  of  oe  is  somewhat  perplexing."'  lie  finally  con- 
 clude^ thai  the  stress  should  be  laid  on  th«  a  rather  than 
 on  the  c.  Peile  says,  "The  nearest  sound  we  have  is 
 perhaps  thai  of 'bov.' "  The  word  is  perhaps.  Prof. 
 Twining   is  still  more  to  the   purpose  when  he  uses  this 
 
162  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 language:  "I  do  not  wish  to  underrate  the  differences  in 
 these  two  cases  {ae  and  oe),  especially  as  I  have  within  a 
 few  years  changed  my  own  practice  and  accepted  proba- 
 bly archaic,  but  distinctive  sounds  as  having  better  claims 
 in  theory  than  the  past  classical  corruptions,  and  as  being 
 preferable  in  practice  to  such  intermediate  sounds  as 
 English  organs  do  not  easily  make.'"  Here  the  want  of 
 harmony  insisted  on  is  confessed,  and  a  change  in  prac- 
 tice is  frankly  admitted.  How  does  Prof.  W.  G.  Rich- 
 ardson meet  the  difficulty  r  Here  is  his  answer:  "Oeis 
 not  worth  a  pinch  of  Napoleon's  snuff,  especially  since 
 our  revised  orthography  has  expunged  it  from  those  oft- 
 recurring  words  coehcm,  poenitet,  co'ena,  etc.'"  Truly, 
 this  modern  Alexander  wields  a  Damascus  blade  in  cut- 
 ting his  Gordian  knots  in  the  Latin  pronunciation.  If 
 the  reformers  can  only  eliminate  oe  from  the  language, 
 then  truly  this  one  difficulty  has  been  removed.  Will. 
 Mayor  and  Robv,  Haldeman  and  Blair,  and  others,  meet 
 a  difficulty  in  this  way?  We  venture  a  decisive  nega- 
 tive. But  Prof.  Richardson  (Courier-  Joiima/,  April) 
 says:  "A  brand-new  type  of  philology  has  been  let 
 loose  on  this  planet,  a  thing  of  life  and  joy  forever." 
 Yes,  and  an  infinite  pity  it  has  been  let  loose  at  all,  if  it 
 proposes  to  remove  difficulties  in  the  way  indicated 
 above.  This  accomplished  linguist  does  not  propose  to 
 settle  all  disputed  questions  in  this  manner.  It  may  be, 
 however,  that  this  is  a  philological  pleasantry.  The 
 truth  of  history  entitles  us  to  expect  of  antiquarians  that 
 the  monuments  of  the  past  shall  not  be  mutilated  or 
 transmuted  so  as  to  respond  to  modern  notions,  as  thereby 
 their  actual  value  as  teaching  monuments  is  destroyed. 
 
 Schliemann  does  not  venture  to  change  the  relics  he 
 finds  in  Hissarlik  or  Mycenae,  but  simply  reports  them 
 as  they  are,  whether  he  understands  them  or  not.  Were 
 
LECTURE  OF    PROF.    FISHER.  165 
 
 these  diphthongs  transmitted  from  the  ancient  Latin  as 
 unintelligible  as  the  whorls  Schliemann  finds,  as  viewed 
 in  their  relation  to  ancient  Aryan  customs,  still  historic 
 piety  must  dictate  their  literal  preservation. 
 
 The  enigmas  of  the  past  are  not  to  be  trampled  un- 
 der our  teet,  nor  rudely  pushed  aside,  as  we  know  not 
 what  revelations  may  ultimately  be  made  to  us  through 
 the  very  perplexities  to  which  they  give  rise. 
 
 The  difference  in  regard  to  oe,  indicated  above,  will 
 appear  in  pronouncing  the  word  coelum. 
 
 Coelum=£#y  -  loom  (u=vowel  sound  in  whirl.) 
 Blair. 
 
 Coe\uva=kay-loom  (a— a  in  fate).     Gildersleeve. 
 
 Coe\um=koy-loom  (oy=oi  in  coil).     Tafel,  etc. 
 
 Coe\um=koivy-loo?n  (owy=owy  in  showy).  Hal- 
 deman. 
 
 Again,  notice  the  difference  of  opinion  and  usage  in 
 regard  to  the  letter  v.  The  question  among  the  new 
 "Romans"  is  whether  v  shall  be  pronounced  like  w  or 
 like  the  labio-dental  v.  Unquestionably  the  difference  is 
 a  wide  one,  and  rests  mainly  on  diverse  phonetic  theo- 
 ries. The  two  parties  among  the  Romanists,  resting  on 
 diverse  theories,  have  from  the  beginning  held  their 
 ground  so  tenaciously  as  to  render  agreement  simply 
 impossible.  Difference  in  theory,  and  also  in  usage,  is 
 confessed  by  all  scholars  throughout  the  world.  Hence 
 it  seems  wholly  unnecessary  to  discuss  this  point  at  any 
 length.  Those  wishing  to  examine  the  matter  may  re- 
 fer to  Roby's  Grammar,  Pcile's  Greek  and  Latin  Ety- 
 mology, and  Prof.  Twining's  article  in  The  Western, 
 already  mentioned.  A  very  brief  examination  will 
 verify  the  remark  of  A.  J.  Ellis,  in  his  work  on  "Early 
 English  Pronunciation":  "The  sound  of  v  in  ancient 
 Latin  is  a  matter  of  dispute." 
 
164  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 Gildersleeve  says  the  sound  was  nearer  our  w  than 
 v,  and  still  more  like  on  in  the  French  out  (we). 
 
 Blair  gives  as  a  result  of  his  investigations,  that  v 
 =English  i',  when  it  began  a  word  or  syllable;  but  after 
 s,  g,  and  q,  and  followed  by  a  vowel,  it  had  the  sound  of 
 -w,  e.  g.:— 
 
 Validus=  val-i-dii  s. 
 
 V  u  1  g  u  s— : >  k  l-g  u  s . 
 
 Servu&r=ser-vus.     V=English  \ . 
 
 But  sua\is=s'wa-vzs. 
 
 Lingua===Zz#-^rwa. 
 
 Quamquam=^7Ww-(/w«w. 
 
 Roby  gives  v  invariably  the  sound  oi  iv.  He  uses 
 these  words  bv  way  of  illustration: 
 
 {lYex\=kreh-ii're=cra\'~zccr. 
 
 J  ovis=  l'o-wees. 
 
 Civitates=>£ ee-tvee-tah-tace. 
 
 V e.nv=-veh-}?ee=zva  y-//ec . 
 
 Vidi==wee-dee. 
 
 \M&=,wee-kee.  (See  Blair's  Pronunciation  and 
 Roby's  Grammar.) 
 
 r=English  v.     Tafel. 
 
 v=tv.     Bartholomew. 
 
 r=English  v.     J.  F.   Richardson. 
 
 v=7V.     W-  G.  Richardson. 
 
 Corssen  seems  inclined  to  the  belief  that  v  some- 
 times sounds  like  our  v.  (Roby,  p.  43.)  As  might  be 
 expected,  usage  in  the  American  schools  lays  no  claim 
 to  uniformity. 
 
 But  pause  a  moment.  Some  of  the  Continental  na- 
 tions cannot  make  the  sound  of  w  at  all,  hence  if  Eng- 
 lish and  American  scholars  insist  on  sounding  v=,wi 
 then  the  idea  that  the  Reformed  Pronunciation  is  to  be- 
 come universal  is  worse  than   Utopian:  ay,  it  is  a  physi- 
 
LECTURK    OF  PROP.  FISHER.  165 
 
 cal  impossibility  over  a  large  part  of  Continental  Europe. 
 If  the  enthusiastic  reformers  are  right  and  have  found 
 and  resurrected  the  real  Ancient  Pronunciation,  is  it 
 not  a  pity  that  whole  nations,  some  of  them  the  most 
 learned  on  earth,  will  never  be  able  to  use  it?  In  French, 
 Spanish,  Portuguese  and  Italian,  v=v  in  English.  These 
 languages  look  back  to  a  common  ancestor,  the  stately 
 and  imperial  Latin,  but  they  can  never  fully  utilize  the 
 results  of  this  "new  philology  that  has  been  let  loose"  in 
 the  last  twenty-five  years. 
 
 This  perilous  condition  of  affairs  is  relieved  by  the 
 proposition  of  A.  J.  Ellis  (Academy,  No.  19),  who  ad- 
 vises that  English  speakers  of  Latin  should  not  pro- 
 nounce v  like  w,  because  it  is  needless  to  adopt  a  sound 
 which  Continental  nations  cannot  produce.  Whatever 
 their  theories  may  be,  though  demonstrated,  whatever 
 their  arguments  may  be,  even  it  unanswerable,  those 
 who  hold  that  v=w,  must  abandon  their  ground,  sacri- 
 fice the  results  of  laborious  research,  and  adapt  them- 
 selves to  nature's  order  of  things  on  the  Continent. 
 Thus  only  can  uniformity  be  attained  with  the  Romanic 
 nations.  Is  it  not  a  little  strange  that  these  nations  have 
 lost  the  power  of  uttering  one  of  the  sounds  used  by  a 
 common  progenitor?  Let  it  be  remembered  here,  that 
 those  who  urge  that  v=w,  tell  us  that  they  are  produc- 
 ing the  sounds  as  they  fell  from  the  lips  of  Cicero,  Vir- 
 gil, and  Horace. 
 
 To  return  to  our  proposition.  At  present,  there  is 
 no  harmony.  If  harmony  is  ever  to  be  realized  in  the 
 future,  one  party  in  this  controversv  over  v  must  aban- 
 don their  ground,  whether  right  or  wrong.  As  the  case 
 now  stands,  some  phases  of  the  discussion  are  not  far 
 removed  from  the  ludicrous.  Either  English  and  Amer- 
 ican scholars  must  abandon  v— w,  or  the  Continental 
 nations  must  learn  to  pronounce  w. 
 
166  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 There  are  other  differences,  not  so  striking  it  may 
 be,  but  such  as  demand  consideration  on  the  part  of  those 
 who  have  adopted  the  "Roman  reform"  and  especially 
 on  the  part  of  those  whose  faith,  under  the  eloquent  and 
 daring  intrepidity  of  the  reformers,  has  been  at  all 
 shaken  as  to  the  comparative  fixedness  and  superiority 
 of  the  English  system. 
 
 The  following,  from  the  principal  of  Eton  College, 
 Windsor,  England,  dated  Feb.  8,  1879,  contains  infor- 
 mation and  arguments  of  the  highest  value  to  all  Eng- 
 lish-speaking people: 
 
 Eton  College,  Windsor,  England,  Feb.  8,  1879. 
 
 Dear  Sir: — We  have  made  no  change  in  the  pronunciation 
 of  Latin  in  Eton.  A  movement  was  set  on  foot  a  few  years  ago 
 for  bringing  in  a  new  system  of  pronunciation;  and  the  Latin 
 professors  at  Oxford  and  Cambridge  drew  up  a  syllabus,  based  on 
 the  best  knowledge  of  the  day.  This  attempt  to  revert  to  the  old 
 pronunciation  of  their  language  in  its  best  days  has  a  great  inter- 
 est doubtless  for  scholar*,  but  its  use  in  the  practical  teachings  of 
 the  language  to  boys  is  by  no  means  evident;  and  though  for  a 
 time  it  found  some  favor,  I  think  it  is  on  the  decline  in  England. 
 It  seems  open  to  these  objections: 
 
 1  st.  That  our  knowledge  is  far  too  meagre  to  enable  us  really 
 to  recover  the  old  pronunciation  of  Latin  as  it  existed  (say)  in  the 
 time  of  Cicero. 
 
 2nd.  That  there  seems  to  be  but  little  hope  of  inducing  other 
 nations  to  adopt  any  such  scheme  as  that  proposed  by  the  two 
 professors. 
 
 3rd.  That  the  introduction  of  a  new  pronunciation  would 
 add  to  the  difficulties  of  the  early  stages  in  teaching  Latin. 
 
 4th.  That  there  would  be  something  painfully  incongruous 
 in  attempting  the  pronunciation  of  Latin  without  altering  that  of 
 Greek;  and  there  seems  to  be  almost  insuperable  difficulties  in 
 adopting  the  modern  Greek  pronunciation  in  English  schools. 
 
 5th.  That  though  in  following  the  general  practice  of  foreign 
 nations,  which  is  to  pronounce  these  dead  languages  according  to 
 the  laws  of  their  own  living  tongue,  we  in  England  are  doubtless 
 further  from  the  true  pronunciation  than  the  Italians,  or  even  the 
 
LECTURE   OF  PROF.  FICKLIN.  167 
 
 Germans  (not  to  mention  others),  no  practical  inconvenience 
 seems  to  result  from  this,  except  the  difficulty  of  speaking  intelli- 
 gibly to  a  foreigner  in  Latin, — a  difficulty  which  is  not  often  felt, 
 and  which  would  not  be  obviated  or  greatly  diminished  by  adopt- 
 ing the  new  pronunciation.  I  cannot  help  also  feeling  that  there 
 is  a  sort  of  pedantry  in  having  one  pronunciation  of  such  names 
 at;  Cicero  or  Virgil  for  a  school  lesson,  and  another  for  the  inter- 
 course of  ordinary  life;  and  I  doubt  whether  the  new  system 
 would  ever  take  root  in  general  society.  I  believe  that  on  the 
 whole  the  more  thoughtful  and  liberal-minded  men  at  Oxford,  to 
 speak  of  my  own  university  which  I  know  best,  are  not  favorable 
 to  the  abandonment  of  our  presenf  system. 
 
 Believe  me,  dear  sir.  very  truly  ever, 
 
 J.  I.  Hornby 
 Professor   M.   M.  .Fisher, 
 
 University  of  Missouri,  Columbia,  United  States. 
 
 THE    ENGLISH    SYSTEM. 
 
 Of  the  twelve  extended  reasons  for  the  use  of  the 
 English  mode,  space  will   allow  extracts  from  two  only. 
 
 Ten  years  ago  I  entered  upon  an  investigation  of 
 the  so-called  Roman  method  with  a  view  to  substituting 
 it  for  the  English,  if  the  new  system  should  be  found  to 
 rest  on  a  basis  of  truth.  This  examination  has  continued 
 until  the  present,  using  all  the  helps  that  have  come 
 from  the  pens  of  able  scholars  both  in  Europe  and 
 America;  the  conclusion  reached  in  these  pages,  there- 
 fore, is  the  result  of  careful  reading  and  study,  and  the 
 preference  given  to  the  settled  English  pronunciation  is 
 the  one  that  has  been  forced  upon  me  by  the  stubborn 
 facts  on  both  sides  of  the  question. 
 
 Let  it  be  clearly  understood  that  no  one  claims  that 
 the  English  method  is  the  true  ancient  pronunciation  of 
 the  Latin  language,  though  it  has  been  used  for  three 
 hundred  years  in  England.  Let  it  be  admitted  that  the 
 so-called  Roman  system,  as  advocated  by  Corssen  and 
 Roby,  sandy  as  its  baus  is,  at  least  in  vital  parts  is  theo 
 
168  UNIVERSITY    Ol'    MISSOURI. 
 
 rcticallv  correct.  Let  its  claims,  based  largely  on  proba- 
 bilities, all  be  conceded;  still,  admitting  the  correctness 
 of  a  theory  and  reducing  that  theory  to  practice  are  rad- 
 ically and  vitally  different.  My  position  is,  therefore, 
 most  unhesitatingly  taken  that  for  English-speaking  peo- 
 ple the  English  pronunciation  is  the  best.  Some  of  the 
 reasons  will  be  briefly  stated: 
 
 i.  The  last  edition  of  Webster's  Dictionary  claims 
 120,000  words.  Of  these,  according  to  the  highest 
 authority,  only  about  23,000  are  of  Anglo-Saxon  origin. 
 De  Vere  (page  43)  says  that  the  English  is  the  only 
 European  idiom  that  so  combines  the  classic  and  Gothic 
 elements  as  to  make  the  Gothic  the  basis  and  the  Latin 
 the  superstructure. 
 
 According  to  Prof.  Whitney,  in  his  "Life  and 
 Growth  of  Language,11  nearly  five  sevenths  of  the  words 
 contained  in  our  large  dictionaries  are  of  classical  deri- 
 vation and  only  about  two  sevenths  native  Germanic. 
 Far  the  greater  part  are  from  the  Latin.  The  same 
 author  says  that  our  scientific  and  philosophical  vocabu- 
 lary comes  mainly  from  the  Latin. 
 
 The  number  of  words  derived  from  the  Greek  is 
 -considerable,  especially  in  scientific  use,  but  far  less  than 
 from  the  Latin.  Take  some  of  the  richest  Latin  pre- 
 fixes found  in  our  language.  With  co  or  con  as  a  pre- 
 fix, we  have  5,600  words,  in  or  im,  2,900;  re,  2,200;  di 
 or  dis,  r,Soo;  ad,  1,600;  de,  1,600;  sub,  700;  pre,  700; 
 pro,  600;  per,  3^0.  From  the  single  root  fac  we  have 
 about  604  derivatives,  according  to  Prof.  Haldeman. 
 (See  his  "Affixes,11  pp.  14-16.) 
 
 The  author  last  emoted  is  of  the  opinion  that  there 
 are  not  three  hundred  roots  in  any  language.  ("Affixes," 
 p.  13.)  In  view  of  the  fact  that  such  a  vast  majority  of 
 our  words  are   from    the    Latin,  either   mediately   or  im- 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.  FISHEB.  169 
 
 mediately,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  of  these  three  hun- 
 dred stems  very  many  are  from  the  same  classie  tongue, 
 we  are  vitally  interested  in  recognizing  the  prefixes  and 
 stems  which  make  our  English  what  it  is.  It  matters 
 not  whether  the  English  system  of  pronouncing  Latin 
 has  been  used  one  hundred  years,  three  hundred  years, 
 or  one  thousand  years :  what  we  are  concerned  with  is 
 that  the  English  language  as  it  is  now  stands  has  been 
 founded  on  the  old-fashioned  pronunciation  of  Latin, 
 This  is  indisputably  true.  Philologic  and  antiquarian 
 research  is  one  thing;  the  progress  of  a  language,  like 
 that  of  nations,  is  quite  a  different  thing. 
 
 For  centuries  the  Latin  has  been  making  its  rich 
 contributions  to  our  noble  English.  These  additions  to 
 our  language  are  being  made  to-day,  as  they  will'  be 
 made  in  the  future,  and  that  from  necessity.  One  thing 
 of  inestimable  value  to  every  student  is  a  thorough 
 knowledge  of  his  mother  tongue — a  matter  sadly  neg- 
 lected in  many  of  our  colleges  and   universities. 
 
 The  question  for  English-speaking  people  to  settle 
 is  as  to  which  pronunciation  leads  most  directly  to  a  vig- 
 orous and  thorough  use  of  our  mother  tongue.  We 
 answer  unhesitatingly,  the  English.  Let  us  have  one 
 thing  at  a  time.  The  bearing  of  the  new  pronunciation 
 on  comparative  philologv  will  receive  due  attention 
 hereafter.  Now  we  are  concerned  with  the  vernacular. 
 Prof.  Haldeman  says:  "Sounds  and  not  letters  furnish 
 the  material  for  etymology."  This  is  true,  and  we  wish 
 no  better  basis  for  our  present  argument.  The  English 
 method  assists  the  student,  even  in  his  early  Latin  course, 
 in  his  etymology;  and  the  derivation  of  words,  in  a 
 multitude  of  instances,  becomes  manifest  from  the  very 
 pronunciation  itself.  Take  the  word  circumjacent,  lor 
 example,  from  cireumjaceo.     Pronouncing  this  word  by 
 
170  UNIVEK6ITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 the  English  method,  sur-cum-ja-se-o,  at  once  reveals  to 
 the  pupil  the  origin  of  circumjacent.  The  likeness  is 
 clear  even  to  a  child. 
 
 But  pronounce  the  .same  word  by  the  Roman  sys- 
 tem, and  circumjaceo  becomes-  keer-koom-yah-ke-o  / 
 The  connection  can  be  seen  only  by  advanced  scholars, 
 and  is  very  likely  not  seen  then.  Take  the  words  rup- 
 ture, rustic,  social,  rumination,  from  ruptum,  rusticus, 
 socius.  and  ruminatio.  When  these  Latin  words  are 
 pronounced  by  the  English  mode  the  origin  of  the  word 
 is  clear;  but  let  the  Latin  be  pronounced  roop-toom, 
 roos-tee-coos,  so-kee-ooss,  and  roo-mee-nah-tee-o,  and  the 
 origin  is  obscured  by  foreign  sounds.  Try  vicinity,  vital, 
 citation,  equation,  civil,  and  equity,  from  vicinitas,  vitalis, 
 citatio,  aequatio,  civilis,  and  aequitas.  The  English 
 mode  reveals  the  truth,  for  "sounds  furnish  the  material 
 for  etymology."  Apply  the  so  called  Roman  and  say 
 ivec-kee-nee-tahs,  zvee-tah-leess,  kee-ta-tee-oj  aye-kak- 
 tee-o,  kee-ivee-leessy  and  aye-kee-tahs,  and  English  ety- 
 mology is  offered  a  sacrifice  to  a  revolutionary  innova- 
 tion. Again,  look  at  the  common  verbal  stems  jac,  val, 
 die,  due,  pel,  and  so  on  through  the  list.  Whenever 
 these  stems  occur  in  our  language,  the  English  system 
 of  pronouncing  Latin  gives  a  clew  to  both  the  origin 
 and  meaning  of  the  words,  as,  for  example,  ejaculatory, 
 valid,  diction,  induction,  compel.  It  does  not  require  an 
 advanced  scholar  to  verity  and  apply  the  statements  just 
 made.  The  most  diligent  scholar  of  any  age  who  has 
 not  made  the  trial,  will  be  surprised  to  find  in  how 
 many  of  our  words  these  Latin  verbal  stems  form  the 
 permanent  home  of  the  idea. 
 
 The  student  of  Latin  can  easily  be  induced  t<>  form 
 the  habit,  Jrom  the  very  start,  of  tracing  up  the  deriva- 
 tion of  word-,  and  the    habit  thus  formed    may  1h-  of  in- 
 
LECTURE  OF    PROF.   FISHER.  171 
 
 calculable  benefit  in  other  directions.  On  the  other  hand 
 the  Roman  method  confuses  the  studeYit  in  both  deriva- 
 tion and  signification,  or  so  entirely  conceals  them,  that 
 the  beneficial  results  to  genuine  English  scholarship  are 
 almost  totally  sacrificed.  Loyalty  to  what  some  are 
 pleased  to  call  the  "demonstrated  rights  of  the  Latin" 
 may  be  a  good  thing,  but  loyalty  to  a  masterly  under- 
 standing of  our  own  tongue  is  a  far  better.  The  Roman 
 mode  abandons  one  of  the  strongest  incentives  that  can 
 be  brought  to  bear  in  the  classroom, — that  of  enabling 
 the  pupil  to  see  and  hear  at  once  and  easily  the  intimate 
 relation  between  the  Latin  and  the  English. 
 
 5.  The  sweeping  change  advocated  by  the  new  pro- 
 nunciation tends  to  a  complete  revolution  in  the  pronun- 
 ciation of  our  own.  language.  Professor  Thacher,  of 
 Yale  College,  uses  the  following  language:  "For,  to 
 speak  of  Latin  words  which  we  have  adopted,  how  long 
 will  Cicero  maintain  his  place  in  English  pronunciation 
 after  the  rod  shall  have  banished  him  from  the  lips  of  all 
 Anglo-Saxon  boys  and  girls  who  thumb  the  little  Latin 
 histories  of  the  men  of  Rome,  and  shall  have  substituted 
 the  classical  kee-ka-ro  in  his  place?  How  long  will 
 Caesar  stand  against  Kaisar,  Scipio  against  Skee-peeo, 
 Fabricius  against  Fah-bree-kee-oos,  Cyrus  against  Kee- 
 roos,  Tacitus  against  Taketoos,  and  so  on  thiough  a 
 long  list  of  proper  names  which  make  a  familiar  part  of 
 our  English  language.  Prima  facie  evidence  will  be- 
 come preemah  fahkeeah  evidence,  the  quid  pro  quo,  keed 
 pro  co;  the  genius  loci,  a  ganeeoos  lokee;  the  mens 
 conscia,  a  mans  conskeeah  (o  as  in  cone);  scilicet,  skee- 
 leekat;  et  cetera,  at  katarah." 
 
 Let  v  be  pronounced  like  w,  and  note  the  way  the 
 most  common  expressions  will  be  transformed: 
 
 viva  voce    becomes  wee-wah  wo-kay. 
 
172  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 per  centum  becomes  par  kanc-toom. 
 
 jure  divino  '  yoo-ray  dee-wec-no. 
 
 jus  civile  "         yoos  kee-wee-lay. 
 
 verbatim  zvayer-bah-teem . 
 
 vivat  regina      "  wee-waht  ray-gee-nak. 
 
 And  hopeless  confusion  is  made  of  the  many  Latin 
 words  incorporated  into  English,  as  utile  dulce  must  be 
 oo-tee-lav  dool-cay/ 
 
 vale,  w  ah- 1  ay. 
 
 vice  versa,  wee  kay  ivaycr-sah. 
 
 ceteris  paribus,        kay-tay-reess  pahr-ee-boos. 
 
 statu  quo,  stah-too  koe. 
 
 This  illustration  might  be  prolonged  indefinitely, 
 for  the  material  is  abundant,  but  there  is  no  necessity  for 
 it.  What  has  been  given  is  a  fair  sample  of  the  radical 
 change  the  so-called  Roman  must  introduce  to  our  class- 
 rooms, and,  in  fact,  in  all  the  walks  of  life  where  Latin 
 is  at  all  employed. 
 
MOSAIC  COSMOGONY. 
 
 By  A.  Meyrowitz,  Professor  of  the  Shemitic 
 Languages  and  Literature,  in  the  Univer- 
 sity of  the  State  of  Missouri. 
 
 In  entering  upon  the  subject  of  Creation,  we  meet 
 three  classes  of  objectors  to  this  doctrine:  i.  The  Athe- 
 ists; 2.  The  Antiquarians,  and  3.  The  Infidels.  The 
 answer  to  the  first  class  we  give  thus:  That  the  mate- 
 rial universe,  of  which  our  globe  forms  a  part,  is  not 
 eternal — consequently  the  world  which  we  inhabit  is  not 
 eternal.  Or  we  may  argue  thus:  'I  exist,'  this  is  self- 
 evident.  T  am  not  the  author  of  my  existence;'  this  is 
 also  self-evident.'  I  therefore  must  be  a  created  being. 
 That  being  to  whom  I  owe  my  existence  derives  his 
 from  himself,  or,  like  me,  owes  it  to  another.  If  he 
 exists  himself,  he  must  be  the  eternal  God.  If  not,  I 
 argue  about  him  as  about  the  former.  Thus  I  ascend,, 
 thus  I  must  ascend,  till  I  arrive  at  that  being  who  does 
 exist  of  himself,  and  who  has  always  existed.  Dr. 
 Grosvener  says  the  Christian's  creed  is:  "I  believe  in 
 God  the  Father  Almighty  maker  of  heaven  and  earth." 
 The  Atheist's  creed  is:  'lI  believe  in  nothing  the  origin 
 of  all  things/"  Which  do  you  think  is  the  most  philo- 
 sophical r 
 
 The  second  class,  the   Antiquarians    say  :     "Remote 
 
174  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 authentic  antiquity  ascribes  a  vastly  greater  age  to  this 
 globe  than  that  set  forth  by  the  inspired  historian  Moses. 
 We  answer,  that  the  cosmogony  of  Moses  contemplates 
 simply  a  history  of  the  origin  of  the  human  species;  all 
 the  other  parts  thereof  being  incidental.  And  I  main- 
 tain that  the  first  verse  is  but  an  introductory  passage, 
 solving  the  great  problem  of  "whence  the  existence  of 
 all  that  which  we  see?" 
 
 (B'reshith.)  In  the  begining  of  time,  when  time 
 was  yet  not;  for  things  existing  measure  time.  It  does 
 not  limit  to  any  period,  or  calpa,  put  it  at  what  extent 
 you  will. 
 
 (Bara) — Created,  brought  into  existence  what  was 
 not  before.  Upon  comparison  of  this  Mosaic  record 
 with  the  most  ancient  system  of  heathen  philosophy, 
 there  can  be  traced  tolerable  marks  of  correspondence. 
 Orpheus  says:  "In  the  beginning  the  heavens  were 
 made  by  God,  and  in  the  heavens  there  was  a  chaos,  and 
 a  terrible  darkness"  was  on  all  the  parts  of  this  chaos, 
 and  covered  all  things  under  the  heaven."  Almost  liter- 
 ally Biblical.  Anaxagorus  says:  "All  things  were  at 
 first  in  one  mass,  but  an  intelligent  agent  came  and  put 
 it  in  order."  Aristotle,  though  he  believed  in  a  materia 
 principia,  says:  "All  things  lay  in  one  mass  for  a  vast 
 space  of  time,  but  an  intelligent  agent  came  and  put 
 them  in  motion  and  so  separated  them  from  one  an- 
 other." 
 
 (Elohim) — God,  the  creator  being  infinite  can  not 
 be  comprehended  by  the  finite.  All  that  man  knows  of 
 the  Creator,  is,  that  He  exists.  Therefore  when  Moses 
 asked  this  Being  "What  is  His  name?"  (Exodus  iii-13.) 
 that  Being  answered:  (Ehejek  asher  ehejeK)  I  shall  be 
 who  shall  be  (English  version  I  am  that  I  am)  i.  e.:  All 
 that  you  mortal  can  know  of  me  is,  my  existence.     And 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.  MEYROWITZ.  175 
 
 so  the  word  Jehovah  means  Existing,  which  the  Jews 
 never  pronounced,  except  the  high  priest  in  temple  on 
 the  day  of  Atonement.  God  in  English,  we  know,  is 
 formed  from  the  adjective  good.  Elohim  the  plural 
 masculine  from  El,  strongs  signifies,  the  concentration 
 of  powers;  the  intelligent  forces  to  produce  the  things 
 created.  You  will  find  therefore  in  this  first  chapter  of 
 creation  only  the  name  Elohim. 
 
 (Hashomayim) — the  heaven,  it  is  a  word,  or  noun, 
 in  the  dual  form,  made  of  the  adverb  sham — there,  1.  e, 
 space,  sphere,  and  as  the  sphere  is  divided  in  two,  one 
 above  the  horizon  and  the  other  below,  the  word  heaven 
 or  sphere  is  in  Dual.  Moses  speaks  only  of  the  visible 
 atmosphere  as  Aben  Ezra  explains  it. 
 
 (Hoorets) — the  earth,  the  terrestial  globe  in  its  gas- 
 eous state.  Maimonicles,  and  other  Jewish  Metaphysi- 
 cians understand  the  word  heaven  to  be  form,  and  earth 
 materia.  At  any  rate  is  this  heaven  not  to  be  confound- 
 ed with  the  heaven  described  in  the  first  chapter  of 
 Ezekiel  or  the  heaven  so  often  spoken  of  in  the  New 
 Testament,  which  is  the  heaven  of  beatitude. 
 
 (V'hoarets  hoytho  touhu  vobouhu) — And  the  earth 
 was  desolate  and  empty.  There  are  acknowledged  be- 
 lievers in  Christianity  who  nevertheless  believe  in  a 
 materia  frincipia  like  the  learned  Gratius  and  Vatabu- 
 lus.  They  understand  the  words  "touhu,  vobouhu"  to 
 represent  chaos;  and  read  thus:  "Before  God  created 
 the  heavens  and  earth,  everything  was  contained  in  the 
 chaos."  Chaos  was  also  not  created.  But  such  a  read- 
 ing cannot  possibly  be  correct.  In  th.-*  first  place,  the 
 verb  must  stand  in  infinitive  construction,  "B'rou"  in- 
 stead of  "Boro"  in  preterit.  Secondly  the  words  "touhu 
 vobouhu"  are  adjectives,  asratos,  inanis  et  waena,  with- 
 out form  and  void. 
 
176  UNIVERSITY    OF    .MISSOURI. 
 
 (Vchoushech  al  p'nai  th'houm)  — -  And  darkness 
 upon  the  depth.  In  Deuteronomy  v-4,  we  read,  ''mi- 
 touch  hoaish,"  out  of  the  midst  of  the  fire,  and  in  verse 
 20  in  loco,  we  read  "untouch  hachoushech,"  out  of  the 
 midst  of  the  darkness,  which  means  the  same.  Hence  I 
 understand  that  the  word  darkness  here  also  means  fire, 
 and  the  idea  is,  that  after  the  creation  of  the  gaseous 
 globe  the  element  of  fire  was  surrounding  it. 
 
 (Vrooach  Elohim  m'rachefeth  al  p'nai  hammoyim) 
 — And  the  wind  of  Elohim  was  (brooding)  hovering 
 upon  the  face  (if  the  waters.  I  am  well  aware  that 
 Christology  understands  the  word  "V'raach,"  and  the 
 ►Spirit,  the  third  person  in  the  holy  Trinity.  There  is 
 even  a  most  remarkable  saying  in  Jewish  literature: 
 "The  spirit  of  God,  that  is,  the  spirit  of  Christ  (Me- 
 shiaeh)."  But  I  am  giving  you  a  simple  textual  lecture. 
 The  word  "m'rachefeth,"  translated  moving,  is  beauti- 
 fuily  adapted  here  for  the  idea  of  activity  in  creation. 
 It  is  used  to  express  the  hovering  of  a  bird  over  its  nest 
 in  brooding  its  eggs.  The  Cabalah  says :  -'The  spirit 
 hovered  like  a  dove,  touching  and  not  touching."  The 
 simple  meaning  in  the  text  is,  the  cooling  off  of  the 
 globe  after  its  creation.  The  first  verse  of  Genesis 
 speaks  of  the  creation  of  (he  substance,  or  prima  mate- 
 ria of  the  heavens  and  earth.  The  second  of  the  vital 
 energies  of  a  supernatural  agency,  in  preparing  the  pri- 
 mordial elements  for  subsequent  organization.  And  the 
 third  and  following  verses  to  the  end  of  the  chapter  of 
 arranging  those  elements  in  their  proper  form. 
 
 (3  verse.  Vayoumer  Eloumin  y'hi  our)— And  Elou- 
 him  said:  "Let  there  he  light.1''  The  word  "amar" 
 means  also  he  thought,  he  wished,  as  in  Ecclesiastes  ii-i. 
 "1  said  in  my  heart."  Elohim  wished,  and  it  was.  ( )r, 
 light:  it  seems  most  rational,  by  this  light  to   understand 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.  MJiYKO WITZ.  177 
 
 those  particles  of  matter"  which  Aye   call   fire,  "which  the 
 
 Almighty  .Spirit"  that  formed  all  things,  produced  as  the 
 great  instrument  for  the  preparation  and  digestion  of  the 
 rest    of  the    matter:    which   was   still    more   vigorously 
 moved  and  agitated,  from  the  top  to  the  bottom,  by  ! 
 restless  element,  till  the  purer  and  more  shining  par1 
 it,  being  separated  from  the  grosser  and  united  in  a  body 
 fit    to    retain    them,  became   light.     The   Talmud  says: 
 "By  the  light  which   God  created   on   the  first  day,  men 
 could  see  from  one  end  of  the   world   to   the  other  end 
 It    means   to  sav.    that    this   light   was  diffused    over  the 
 whole  globe,  not  being   concentrated.      This    light    is   to 
 be   carefully   distinguished   from  that  of  the    fourth  day, 
 when  it  was  concentrated  in  the  receptacles  of  light,  i.  e. 
 the  sun. 
 
 (4  verse.,)  This  celestial  fluid  in  a  stat<  I  '-'ity, 
 is  called  "or,"  light,  and  the  same  in  an  inactive  state  s 
 called  "choushech."  darkness.  A-  the  darkness,  or 
 is  the  negative  of  activity,  or  light  light,  the  text  men- 
 tions first  evening  and  then  morning.  Mephistophiles, 
 in  Faust  by  Goethe,  says :  '-The  light  which  darkness 
 bare." 
 
 (5  verse.)  Yuum  echod — -one  day.  The  question 
 whether  it  means  a  natural  or  solar  day  of  twenty-four 
 hours,  or  a  period  of  vastly  greater  length  is  difficult  to 
 decide.  If  we  reason  that  nature  and  Providence  are 
 gradual  in  their  operations;  not  like  man,  who  is  always 
 for  subitaneous  violence,  but  deliberately  proceeding  by 
 gradual  evolutions,  the  six  days  must  mean  periods  of 
 stupendous  length.  But  when  wc  suppose  that  creation 
 involves  the  intervention  of  a  miracle  in  giving  existence 
 to  the  material  universe;  and  il  by  the  intervention  of  a 
 miracle,  then  why  extend  it  continuously  through 
 periods,  of  stupendous  length?     We   come   now  to  the 
 
178  tTMYEK61TY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 work  oi  the  second  clay,  the  separation  of  air  and  water. 
 The  word  "rokia"  signifies  expansion,  a  gaseous  fluid, 
 and  not  firmament,  as  the  English  version,  which  is 
 taken  from  the  Septuagint.  This  constituted  the  next 
 step  of  advance  in  the  organization  of  the  chaotic 
 aqueous  matter.  For  till  there  was  an  expanse,  or  at- 
 mosphere, the  particles  of  water  thrown  off  by  the  con- 
 tinued action  of  fire  on  the  primeval  elements,  could  not 
 ascend.  This  expanse  provided,  the  process  of  evapo- 
 ration could  go  on,  the  smaller  particles  being  raised 
 above  by  exhalation,  and  the  larger  body  of  water  re- 
 maining below.  Thus  the  atmosphere,  and  which  is 
 the  same  material  heaven,  through  which  the  birds  of 
 the  air  wing  their  devious  course,  "divided  the  waters 
 which  were  above  them  from  the  waters  which  were 
 below  them."  Water,  "mayim,"  has  for  this  reason  the 
 Dual  form. 
 
 On  the  third  day,  sea  and  land  were  disunited,  and 
 the  earth  was  made  to  produce  vegetation.  Each  suc- 
 cessive process  in  the  conformation  of  the  primeval 
 aqueous  matter  to  the  purpose  designed,  should  be 
 sedulously  kept  in  view.  The  chaotic  element  had 
 by  the  organization  of  the  first  two  days,  produced  suc- 
 cessively and  in  the  following  order,  darkness,  light,  the 
 atmosphere  and  a  division  of  the  exhalated  particles  of 
 water,  from  the  denser  fluid.  This  fluid,  however,  was 
 subject  to  another  process,  that  of  bringing  together  its 
 granitic  and  earthly  elements;  the  former  consisting  of 
 the  primitive  rock,  or  skeleton  of  our  globe,  the  hitter, 
 the  soil  with  which  they  were  covered,  as  indispensable 
 to  the  purposes  of  vegetation.  Hence  the  division  of 
 earth  and  water,  or  land  and  sea,  and   the  production  of 
 
 -..  herbs  ant!  trees. 
 
 On  the  fourth  day  a   more  perfect  division«of  dark- 
 
LECTURE  OF   PROF.    MKYKOWITZ.  179 
 
 Hess  and  light  into  day  and  night  was  produced,  by 
 placing  in  the  material  heavens,  the  sun,  the  moon  and 
 the  stars.  Thenceforward,  the  diurnal  revolutions  of 
 the  sun  and  moon,  established  the  divisions  of  time  into 
 days,  months  and  years,  and  the  seasons  into  those  of 
 of  summer  and  winter.  These  luminaries  are  called 
 "m'ourouth,"  light-bearers,  receptacles  of  "or,"  light 
 created  at  first. 
 
 On  the  fifth  day,  was  the  formation  of  fishes,  and  of 
 birds.  By  the  formation  of  the  sea-monsters,  in  reason 
 of  their  enormousness,  the  word  "BorOj"  to  create,  is 
 employed  by  the  writer. 
 
 The  work  of  the  sixth  day  was  appropriated  to  the 
 formation  of  the  various  species  and  genus  of  beasts  and 
 reptiles,  and  finally  of  man.  Here  again  the  verb 
 "Bora,"  to  create,  is  used,  referring  to  the  soul.  Ills 
 body  was  made  out  of  the  dust  of  the  earth,  but  his  soul 
 was  a  new  creature,  a  portion  of  God  from  above. 
 
 (26  verse.)  (Naasseh  Odom) — Let  us  make  man. 
 This  plural  form  of  the  verb  has  given  rise  to  manv 
 speculative  exegesis,  but  without  entering  into  the 
 merit  or  demerit  of  these  various  speculations;  I  believe 
 that  the  Deity  addressed  here  his  material  creation  and 
 said:  Let  us,  Me  and  the  earth,  form  man.  Thou 
 earth  give  the  matter,  anil  I  will  create  the  mind,  and 
 both  combined  will  make  man.  lie  will  then  he  in  both 
 our  h«age,  and  like  unto  both  of  us.  The  carnal  body 
 Will  bind  him  to  earth,  and  his  soul  will  make  him  God- 
 like. And  this  God-like  nature  will  make  him  lord  of 
 all  lower  creation,  but  not  lord  over  their  life;  animal. 
 fi  01    vvas  not  allowed  him. 
 
 (;;!.  verse.)  (Vayaar  Elohim) — And  (Jod  saw, 
 1  leans,  and  God  approved,  a-,  "I  see  he  is  right.'''  (Toub 
 m'oud) — ver<  :  in  Hebrew  i-  "m'oud,"  the  superla- 
 
180  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 tivc  the  best.  The  world  created  was  the  best  that  God 
 could  have  created.  The  Bible  teaches  the  doctrine  of 
 "Optemismus,"  fallen  men  are  the  pessimists. 
 
 (II  2  verse.)  (Vaychal  Elohim) — And  God  finish- 
 ed. The  finishing  on  the  seventh  day  has  caused  the 
 Septnagint,  and  other  manuscripts  to  write  "And  God 
 finished  on  the  sixth  day.  But  the  word  "Vaychal"  can 
 also  have  the  meaning  and  "he  liked"  (See  Psalm  84-2). 
 The  reading  would  be  thus:  "And  God  liked  on  the 
 seventh  day.     His  work  which  he  made.'1 
 
 When  the  order  of  the  Mosaic  Cosmogony  will  be 
 compared  with  the  geological  strata  of  the  globe  (as 
 the  lecturer  compared  it  at  the  end  of  his  lecture  with 
 a  geological  Chart  which  he  exhibited  to  his  honorable 
 audience)  it  will  be  found,  that  the  order  described  by 
 Moses  1650  B.  C.  (3500)  agrees  most  accurately  with  it. 
 And  is  not  this  one  of  the  grandest  proof,  that  this  book 
 called  the  Bible  is  of  none  else  but  Him  who  declares  at 
 the  beginning  what  will  happen  at  the  end  of  time,  the 
 only  true  wise  God  to  whom  be  all  glory  and  majesty. 
 Amen. 
 
THE  FALL   OF    THE    DECEMVIR  ATE— THE 
 LEGEND  OF  VIRGINIA. 
 
 By  Philemon  Bli^s,  LL.  D.,  Professor  of  Law 
 and  Dean  of  the  Law  Faculty  in  the  Uni- 
 versity of   the  State  of  Missouri. 
 
 Before  coming  to  the  story  which  I  propose  to  re- 
 cite to  you  upon  this  occasion,  and  that  you  may  under- 
 stand its  legal  and  historical  bearing,  I  must  call  your 
 attention  to  a  few  preliminary  matters  which  are  consid- 
 ered more  in  detail  in  the  class  room,  when  treating  of 
 the  constitutional  and  legal  history  of  early  Rome,  but 
 which  I  can  but  merely  allude  to  to-night.  According 
 to  the  Roman  Annals,  the  Tarquins  were  expelled  two 
 hundred  and  forty  years  after  the  foundation  of  the  city, 
 and  five  hundred  and  eight  before  the  Christian  Era. 
 This  was  twenty"  years  before  the  battle  of  Marathon 
 and  some  fifty  years  after  the  beginning  of  the  restora- 
 tion of  the  Jews  and  the  rebuilding  of  the  Temple. 
 Before  that  event,  in  league  with  the  Cognate  Herni- 
 cians  and  with  the  thirty  cities  of  Latium,  and  as  the 
 head  of  the  Confederacy,  Rome  had  acquired  a  promi- 
 nent position  among  the  powers  situate  upon  the  Medi- 
 terranean. A  portion  of  a  commercial  treaty  with  Car- 
 thage has  been  preserved  which  indicates  the  importance 
 of  its  foreign  relations,  and  the  great   works  built  by  the 
 
IS'd  UNIVERSITY   OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 later  kings,  show  its  internal  strength.  'The  wall  of 
 Servius  Tullius  was  looked  upon  as  a  marvellous  work 
 in  the.  clays  of  Pliny  and  the  Cloaca  Maxima  is  one  of 
 those  Cyclopean  structures  which  were  built  as  if  for 
 eternity.  Its  triple  walls,  each  of  huge  blocks  of  uni- 
 form size,  in  all  some  eleven  feet  in  thickness,  are  as  solid 
 as  when  built,  its  area  is  greater  than  that  of  any  similar 
 work  in  Europe  and  is  only  inferior  to  the  great  Mill 
 creek  sewer  of  St.  Louis. 
 
 These  kings,  except  perhaps  the  last,  were  the  pro- 
 tectors of  the  commons.  The  Patricians  were  exorbi- 
 tant usurers,  denied  the  Plebians  any  interest  in  the  pub- 
 lic lands,  and  habitually  availed  themselves  of  the  right 
 to  sell  their  insolvent  debtors  into  slavery.  The  kings 
 desired  to  save  their  peasant  soldiers  and  sought  to  pro- 
 tect them  from  tailing  into  the  hands  of  their  remorse- 
 less creditors.  This  was  chieflv  done  by  usury  laws 
 limiting  interest  to  ten  per  cent,  and  by  giving  to  each 
 Plebian  a  homestead,  thus  creating  a  self-dependent,  free 
 and  hardy  peasantry,  interested  in  defending  their  own 
 homes  as  well  as  the  great  possessions  of  the  lordly 
 patricians.  The  later  kings,  at  least  Servius  Tullius, 
 also  sought  to  give  them  some  voice  in  the  state 
 through  the  complicated  organization  of  the  centuries  of 
 which  I  have  now  no  time  to  speak. 
 
 But  Patrician  avarice  and  ambition.  Patrician  pride 
 and  arrogance  could  not  endure  the  idea  that  the  de- 
 scendents  of  emancipated  clients,  of  slaves,  of  strangers 
 who  had  voluntarily  domiciled  in,  or  who  had  been 
 transported  to  the  city  as  captives,  should  be  exempted 
 from  any  burden,  should  enjoy  any  political  rights,  or 
 receive  any  portion  of  conquered  lands.  They  might 
 fight — indeed  there  could  hardly  have  been  an  army 
 without  them — but  every  victorv  must  be  for  the  exclu- 
 
LECTUKK  OF   I'ROF.   BUSS.  188 
 
 sive  benefit  of  the  privileged  order;  and  for  reversing 
 this  policy,  for  seeking  to  give  some  four  or  five  acres  to 
 each  peasant-soldier,  for  desiring  to  clothe  the  centuries 
 composed  of  the  more  prosperous  plebians,  as  well  as 
 patricians,  with  some  civil  power,  Tarqnin  the  first 
 and  Servius  were  assassinated,  and  for  laying  his  heavy 
 hand  upon  patrician  as  well  as  plebian,  the  last  Tarquin 
 was  driven  from  the  throne,  and  a  republic,  so  called, 
 was  established. 
 
 Upon  the  expulsion  of  the  kings,  the  gentile  class 
 determined  to  establish  a  pure  and  narrow  aristocracy. 
 At  first,  a  somewhat  liberal  constitution  was  adopted, 
 but  as  soon  as  the  fear  of  Tarqnin  had  passed  away,  it 
 was  trampled  under  foot  and  the  struggle  continued  for 
 nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  before  there  was  any- 
 thing like  political  equality  between  the  orders.  This 
 was  a  sorry  period  in  the  history  of  the  imperial  city,  and 
 tor  a  portion  of  the  time  its  habit,  if  not  its  dream  of  con- 
 quest was  abandoned  and  it  became  content  to  struggle 
 for  a  very  existence.  The  acquisitions  of  the  Tarquins 
 and  ot  Servius  were  soon  lost,  the  alliance  with  the 
 Latins  and  Hernicians  came  to  an  end,  the  citizens  who 
 had  been  planted  in  Etruria  were  driven  back  across  the 
 Tiber,  the  northern  boundary  of  the  ager  Romanus 
 came  down  almost  to  the  Anio,  and  on  two  memorable 
 occasions  the  city  it:>elf  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 
 It  was  first  conquered  by  Porsena  and  compelled  to  pay 
 tribute  to  the  Etruscans,  and  after  the  days  of  the  De- 
 cemvirate,  of  which  l  am  about  to  speak,  barbarous 
 hordes  of  Gauls  then  occupying  the  banks  of  the  Po, 
 poured  over  the  Apennines  down  through  Etruria,  scat- 
 tered the  Roman  army  sent  out  to  meet  them,  and  took 
 possession  of  and  burned  the  city — the  Capitoline  hill 
 with  its  priceless  historical  and  legal  treasures  alone 
 being:  saved. 
 
184  ITN-J.VRESITY    OK    MISSOURI. 
 
 During  this  long  era  of  depression  five  or  six  gene- 
 rations passed  away,  the  citv  was  constantly  engaged  in 
 external  wars  with  the  small  powers  that  surrounded  it, 
 but  the  great  war  was  within  its  walls'.  No  danger,  no 
 patriotic  impulse,  no  law  or  compact,  conceded  as  they 
 often  were  by  the  patricians  when  driven  to  the  wall, 
 could  divert  them  from  their  determination  to  establish 
 and  maintain  their  aristocratic  constitution.  The  fathers, 
 the  patristic  class,  alone  in  their  view  composed  the 
 state,  and  they  assumed  that  the  great  majority  of  the 
 free  inhabitants,  although  native  citizens  and  soldiers, 
 were  bul  strangers  having  no  rights,  but  bound  to 
 work  and  to  fight  for  the  orthodox  ord.-T.  They  were 
 forbidden  to  intermarry  with  this  order,  were  rigorously 
 excluded  from  every  office  involving  the  administration  of 
 law,  were  shut  out  from  lands  won  by  their  valor,  were 
 often  involved  in  hopeless  debts  by  the  usury  wrung 
 from  their  necessities  and,  with  their  families,  were  sold 
 into  slavery  to  satisfy  them.  Religion  came  to  the  aid 
 of  selfishness.  The  gods  of  the  city,  as  well  as  those  of 
 the  gentes  and  curies,  were  patrician  gods.  The  fath- 
 thers,  the  patristic  class  were  alone  under  the  divine 
 care,  they  alone  could  offer  sacrifices,  they  were  a  sacer- 
 dotal as  well  as  an  aristocratic  order.  Without  an  ortho- 
 dox worship,  the  commons  were  simply  impious  for  as- 
 piring to  equality  with  the  sacred  caste. 
 
 As  the  fruit  of  the  long  struggle  with  pride  and 
 superstition,  the  plebians  had  wrung  many  concessions 
 and  would  perhaps  have  been  contented  had  their  rights, 
 tinder  these  concessions,  been  respected.  Their  legal  dis- 
 abilities were  still  bad  enough,  but,  as  is  always  the  case 
 with  classes  who  cannot  protect  themselves,  their  suffer- 
 ings from  unlawful  outrages,  from  the  oppression  of 
 magistrates,  and  the  perversions  of  law  were  far  more 
 
LECTURE    OF   PROF.     BLISS.  185 
 
 severe.  The  constitution  of  the  good  king  Servius 
 had  lived  in  their  hearts  and  hopes  and  they  had  not 
 ceased  to  struggle,  and  with  some  success,  for  the  relief 
 which  he  had  sought  to  give  them.  Before  the  days  of 
 the  Decemvirs  they  had  acquired  small  homesteads, 
 their  place  in  the  centuries,  with  the  increasing  politi- 
 cal power  of  that  organization,  had  become  undisputed, 
 and  the  assembly  of  the  trihes,  composed  at  this  time  ex- 
 clusively of  plebians,  had  become  a  legal  body  with  im- 
 portant political  powers.  This  body  could  initiate  laws, 
 but  the  patrician  Curies  and  Senate  always  ignored 
 every  unpalatable  proposition,  and  patrician  mobs  were 
 wont  to  interrupt  or  break  up  their  assemblies.  They 
 were  practically  without  protection  even  in  the  few  legal 
 rights  which  were  conceded  to  them,  for  they  were 
 without  magistrates  who  possessed  any  power  outside 
 their  own  order.  In  view  of  this  want,  the  commons, 
 by  the  first  secession  to  JMons  Sacer  had  obtained  the 
 celebrated  Tribunate,  an  office  which  would  be  the 
 source  of  endless  confusion,  if  not  anarchy,  in  a  govern- 
 ment of  equal  laws,  but  which,  in  the  antagonist  popu- 
 lations of  Rome,  became  their  only  efficient  protection. 
 I  have  no  time  even  to  allude  to  the  many  and  long 
 struggles  which  resulted  in  the  emancipation  of  the 
 plebians,  in  the  opening  of  that  career  of  conquest,  and 
 in  the  successful  establishment  of  little  Romes,  through- 
 out the  conquered  territories,  that  have  made  Rome, 
 though  so  long  dead,  still  the  active,  the  moving  power 
 among  men.  But  my  subject  to-night,  'The  fall  of  the 
 Decemvirate,'  demands  that  I  briefly  speak  of  the  crea- 
 tion of  that  celebrated  magistracy,  chosen,  like  the 
 Archonship  of  Solon,  to  reform  the  laws  and  which  re- 
 sulted in  the  adoption  of  the  XII  Tables,  a  code  of  com- 
 manding importance  in  its  bearing  upon  the  jurispru- 
 dence of  the  world. 
 
186  UNIVERSITY   OP    MISSOURI. 
 
 I  have  alluded  to  the  fact  that  the  law  was  adminis- 
 tered exclusively  by  the  patricians  and  have  also  alluded 
 to  their  rapacity  and  disposition  to  grind  the  face  of  the 
 commons.  At  this  period,  except  occasional  enactments 
 for  special  objects,  there  were  in  Rome  no  written  laws; 
 and  it  is  not  likely  that  written  codes  were  known  in 
 any  of  the  neighboring  states.  Controversies  were  de- 
 termined in  accordance  with  certain  generally  received 
 rules  or  customs,  recognized  but  not  ordained,  customs 
 which  had  existed  more  or  less  settled  and  developed, 
 for  hundreds,  perhaps  thousands  of  years,  before  the 
 foundation  of  the  city.  Those  which  at  this  and  subse- 
 quent periods  were  common  to  the  Italian  cities  with 
 Which  the  Romans  held  intercourse  came  to  be  called 
 the  jus  gentium  or  jus  naturae,  while  the  jus  civile 
 pertained  to  Rome  alone.  The  complaint  of  the  ple- 
 bians  in  regard  to  legal  administratio-i  was  two-fold. 
 First  the  law  was  uncertain  and  was  often  perverted  in 
 the  interest  of  the  ruling  class.  They  demanded  a 
 written  code  so  published  as  to  be  known  to  all  and  with 
 severe  penalties  upon  any  recreant  magistrate  who  should 
 disregard  it.  What  some  of  those  penalties  were,  we 
 shall  presently  see.  Thev  also  desired  a  system  of  laws 
 that  should  apply  equally  to  all  classes  of  citizens: 
 hitherto  there  had  been  one  law  for  the  patrician  and 
 one  for  the  plebian.  They  demanded  also  an  equal  par- 
 ticipation in  the  magistracy.  It  had  become  very  appa- 
 rent that  so  long  as  all  the  great  offices  were  held  by 
 their  enemies,  so  long  as,  when  appealed  to  for  redress  of 
 injuries,  they  could  make  the  law  whatever  they  saw  fit 
 to  call  it,  so  long  as,  even  in  theory,  the  two  classes  were 
 not  equal  before  the  law,  it  would  be  in  vain  to  strive  for 
 other  reforms.  Dispairing  therefore  of  justice  without 
 a  revolution  in  the  judicial  system,  they  dropped  all  oth- 
 
LECTURE   OF   PROF.  BIjISS.  187 
 
 er' demands,  and  in  the  year  293  from  the  foundation  of 
 the  city  and  forty-eight  years  after  the  expulsion  of  Tar- 
 quin,  the  Tribune  Terentelius  brought  before  the  assem- 
 bly of  the  Tribes  a  lex,  an  act  we  should  call  it,  for  the 
 election  of  ten  magistrates  to  be  taken  equally  from  both 
 classes,  to  supercede  the  Consuls,  the  Tribunes,  the 
 Quaestors,  the  Edilc<,  and  whose  first  duty  should  be  to 
 codify  and  publish  the  laws  and  provide  for  the  political 
 amalgamation  of  the  orders.  This  proposition  aroused 
 every  passion  of  the  aristocrats.  It  would  be  interesting 
 and  instructive,  a1-  showing  that  human  nature  is  the 
 same  in  all  ages,  that  political  ascendency  and  class  priv- 
 ilege are  never  surrendcaed  without  a  struggle,  to  note 
 Sn  some  detail  the  fierce  and  bloody  strifes  over  the 
 Tercntilian  law  during  the  next  decade.  But  I  have  no 
 time  to-night.  Suffice  it  upon  this  occasion  to  say  that 
 after  a  struggle  of  nine  years,  after  every  device  lawful 
 and  lawless  had  been  interposed  in  opposition,  the  pa- 
 tience and  perseverence  of  the  commons  was  rewarded 
 with  success.  The  Senate  and  the  assembly  of  the 
 Curies  so  far  yielded  as  to  authorize  the  election  of  the 
 Decemvirs  to  supercede  all  other  magistrates,  and  direct- 
 ed that  they  should  codify  and  publish  the  laws. 
 
 The  work  of  the  first  Decemvirs  was  highlv  satis- 
 factory. In  framing  the  code,  they  took  to  their  aid  the 
 Greek  philosopher  Hennodorus,  made  him  their  secre- 
 tary as  we  would  call  it,  drew  up  the  first  ten  Tables, 
 and  caused  them  to  be  engraved  upon  brass  and  exposed 
 in  the  Comitium  for  public  inspection.  These  laws 
 were  well  received  and  no  complaint  was  made  of  the 
 civil  administration. 
 
 One  of  the  ablest  of  the  Decemvirs  was  Appius 
 Claudius.  Aristocrat  by  birth  and  instinct,  he  thirsted 
 for  power  and  had  labored  to  make  himself  popular  by 
 
188  UNXVJ3B8ITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 seeming   to  be    the  chief  instrument   in    gratifying  the 
 
 commons  through  the  adoption  ot  an  excellent  code. 
 He  belonged  to  the  celebrated  Sabine  Claudian  family, 
 which,  a  generation  before,  had  been  adopted  by  the 
 Curies  and  incorporated  into  the  Roman  aristocracy. 
 Almost  every  generation  of  this  family,  from  its  first  en- 
 trance into  the  city  until  the  imperial  Claudius,  had  fur- 
 nished men  of  marked  ability.  They  were  never  sol- 
 diers, were  rather  distinguished  as  orators  and  adroit  po- 
 litical managers,  were  always  remorseless  patricians 
 without  a  spark  of  sympathy  with  the  commons,  though 
 upon  occasion  they  made  very  successful  demagogues. 
 It  takes  a  heartless  aristocrat  to  make  a  genuine  dema- 
 gogue, and  nothing  so  pleases  him  as,  while  subjecting 
 the  people  to  his  will,  to  degrade  them  by  flattering  their 
 vices  and  by  exciting  their  jealousies  against  those  who 
 would  elevate  and  ennoble  them. 
 
 At  the  end  of  the  year  the  work  of  the  Decemvirs 
 was  not  completed  and  another  election  became  neces- 
 sary. Niebuhr  thinks  the)'  were  to  be  a  permanent  mag- 
 istracy and  that  the  new  election  was  in  regular  order, 
 while  others  suppose  that  they  were  chosen  for  a  special 
 purpose,  and  that  this  election  was  only  to  complete  their 
 work.  But  we  know  that  a  new  election  was  had,  and 
 Appius  Claudius  was  the  only  one  of  the  old  body  who 
 was  re-elected.  Finding  himself  secure  in  his  position, 
 that  his  new  colleagues  could  be  controlled  by  him,  and 
 hoping  for  nothing  more  from  the  plebs,  the  dema- 
 gogue threw  off  the  mask,  made  his  peace  with  his  own 
 order,  and  managed  to  render  this  administration  the 
 most  infamous  known  in  the  Annals.  Two  Tables  were 
 added  to  the  code  containing,  as  Cicero  says,  some  une- 
 qual laws,  among  which  was  the  provision  that  if  a  pa- 
 trician should   wed   the  daughter  of  a   plebian,  the  fruit 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROP-    BLIvS  189 
 
 of  the  marriage  should  belong     i  ow-er  order.     For 
 
 this  the  common*  cared  but  little,  it  served  only  to 
 strengthen  their  own  class,  but  they  caved  much  for  the 
 oppressive  orders  and  unjust  judgments  to  which  the 
 new  Decemvirs  subjected  them.  For  some  forty  years 
 they  had  enjoyed  the  protection  of  their  own-  Tribunes, 
 — the  arm  of  the  Consul  was  often  parali'zed  by  his  veto 
 and  they  had  succeeded  in  banishing  some  of  the  most 
 illustrious  patricians — but  now  the  office  is  superceded 
 and  there  i>  no  one  clothed  with  legal  authority  to  shield 
 them  from  outrage.  The  patricians  could  not  look  upon 
 the  Decemvirs  with  favor,  for  they  had  been  forced 
 upon  them  by  the  plebians,  but  still  thev  delighted  to 
 see  this  fruit  of  the  popular  victory  brought  home  to  the 
 commons,  and  stood  aloof,  or  encouraged  the  tyrants. 
 The  year  run  out  and  no  new  election  was  called:  it 
 seemed  that  the  Council  of  Ten  had  determined  to  fol- 
 low the  example  of  the  tyrants  bf  the  Grecian  cities  and 
 hold  on  to  their  power.  How  long  this  state  of  things 
 would  have  continued  but  for  an  attempted  outrage  by 
 Appius  cannot  be  known,  but.  as  the  immediate  cause  of 
 their  overthrow,  the  Roman  Annals,  or  perhaps  the 
 Roman  Legends,  have  left  us  the  exciting  story  of  Vir- 
 ginia. In  giving  you  this  story  to-night,  I  hope  it  will 
 not  be  considered  any  the  less  truthful  if  I  do  not  tread 
 in  all  the  steps  of  Livy;  at  least  I  will  not,  like  him 
 and  Macaulay,  put  long  speeches  into  the  mouths  of  the 
 excited  actors,  when  their  words  must  have  been  short 
 and  sharp. 
 
 I  must  detain  you  from  the  story  a  little  longer,  for 
 it  cannot  be  well  understood  without  some  idea  of  a 
 Roman  court  of  justice.  At  this  period  the  famous 
 basilicas  had  not  been  built  and  all  suits  were  instituted, 
 the  nature  of  the  controversy  was  ascertained,  and  usu- 
 
190  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 ally  the  final  trials  we're   had  in  the  Forum,  in  the  open 
 air.     This  celebrated  place,  on   which   for  mure  than  a 
 thousand  years  were  acted  scenes   of  greater   public  sig- 
 nificance   than   in    any    other   spot   on    earth,  was  but  an 
 oblong  public  space  in   the  heart  of  Rome  of  about  four 
 acres  of  land,  extending  south  from  the  base  of  the  Cap- 
 itoline   hill  with  diminishing   width    to  near  the   eastern 
 slope  of  the  Palatine.     The  .Senate  Chamber  overlooked 
 it  from  the  Capitoline  and  the  assembly  of  the  centuries 
 — the  exercitus — was    held  in  the  Campus  Martius  out- 
 side and  north  of  the  'walls — the  army,  as  such,  not  being 
 suffered  in  the  city.     The  importance  of  this  little  area 
 will   appear   when    we  consider  that,  except   the  Senate 
 and  the  centuries,  no  legal  public  assembly,  whether  of 
 the  curies    or  the  tribes,  no  elections,  no   legislation  by 
 the  commons  or  by  the  patrician    body,  ami  no  courts  of 
 justice  could  be  lawfully  held  except  in   the   Forum  Ro- 
 manum.     The  judicial  power  in  early  Rome  was  vested 
 first  in  the  Kings,  afterwards  in   the  Consuls,  and  at  the 
 time  of  which  I   am  speaking,  in  the   Decemvirs.     The 
 plaintiff,  in  bringing  his  action,  did    not,  as  with    us,  sue 
 out  a  summons,  or  a  capias,  to  be  served  upon  his  adver- 
 sary by  a  public  officer,  but  himself  seized  and  brought 
 him  before  the   magistrate.     The  defendant  was  bound 
 to  yield,  for  the  plaintiff  was  as  the  sheriff  in    the  case 
 and   could   enforce   obedience.     The   Consul,    or    at    the 
 time   of  which    1    am    speaking,  one   of  the    Decern virs, 
 and  in  after  centuries  the  Praetor  sat  in  the  open  Forum 
 to  hear  complaints,  and    when    the   parties   came   before 
 him,  an  early  day  was  fixed  to  make  up  the  issues  as  the 
 lawyers  call  it,  that  is,  to  ascertain  the  real  nature  of  the 
 complaint  and  defense.     At   this  second   appearance  the 
 character  of  the   controversy    was   ascertained,  and   the 
 whole  matter  a    -    "i  ferred  to  a  judex-,  who  was  instruct- 
 
LECTL'RR    OF    PBOP.     ELISS.  191 
 
 cd  to  hear  the  evidence,  to  decide  upon  the  facts  and  to 
 render  judgment  in  accordance  with  the  directions  of 
 the  magistrate  upon  the  question  of  law  involved. 
 Long  after  the  age  of  the  Decemvirs  the  formulary  sys- 
 tem, so  celebrated  in  Roman  jurisprudence,  was  adopted 
 by  the  Proetors,  by  which  all  issues  were  made  up  in 
 writing  according  to  exact  formulas  and  the  directions  of 
 the  Proctor  were  also  in  writing;  but  at  this  period  the 
 allegations  of  the  parties  were  verbal  and  the  instruc- 
 tions to  the  judex  were  also  delivered  to  him  verbally 
 by  an  officer  sent  with  the  parties  for  that  purpose.  Had 
 I  time  to-night  it  would  be  interesting  to  go  more  into 
 detail  in  regard  to  these  trials,  but  from  what  has  been 
 said  you  will  perceive  that  in  them  was  embodied  the 
 fundamental  idea  of  our  own  jury  system,  the  determi- 
 nation of  the  questions  of  law  and  of  what  should  he 
 the  issues  between  the  parties  being  made  by  the  magis- 
 trate with  a  submission  of  the  facts  to  a  lay  citizen.  At 
 the  time  of  which  I  am  speaking  no  one  but  a  Senator 
 could  be  a  judex,  and  though  the  class  from  which  he 
 might  be  chosen  was  afterwards  extended,  yet  it  was 
 always  confined  to  the  highest  rank  of  citizens.  The 
 judicial  function,  whether  exercised  by  the  Proetor  or 
 |  tdex,  was  with  the  Romans  as  it  is  with  us,  the  highest 
 in  internal  administration,  with  this  difference,  that  with 
 them  such  service  was  gratuitous  and  no  one  could  be 
 entrusted  with  questions  affecting  life,  liberty  or  prop- 
 erty, unless  he  had  a  large  pecuniary  interest  in  the 
 state. 
 
 THE    LEGEND. 
 
 An  unsuccessful  war  was  being  waged  against  the 
 Equians  and  Sanities,  two  legions  were  in  the  field  un- 
 der eight  of  the  Decemvirs,  leaving  in  the  city  as  the 
 sole  magistrates,  the  tyrant  Appius  Claudius  and  his  col- 
 
192  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 league  Oppius.  Lucius  Virginius,  be!  mging  to  the 
 better  class  of  tbe  plebians,  a  centurion  and  abroad  with 
 his  legion,  left  at  home  a  beautiful  daughter  who  had 
 been  betrothed  to  Icilius,  a  distinguished  leader  of  the 
 commons.  As,  with  her  maid,  she  daily  came  to  hear 
 school  adjoining  the  Forum,  Appius  fastened  his  eyes 
 upon  her.  His  allurements  were  disregarded.  Piqued 
 and  inflamed  by  the  obstacles  in  his  way,  and  not  doubt- 
 ing his  own  omnipotence  in  the  city,  he  determined  to 
 secure  her  person  through  the  fraudulent  exercise  of  his 
 legitimate  power  as  magistrate.  To  this  end  he  sub- 
 orned one  of  the  clients  of  his  hou-e  to  demand  the 
 fair  Virginia  as  a  child  of  one  of  his  female  slaves,  to 
 claim  that  she  had  been  adopted  by  the  childless  wife  of 
 Virginius  and  imposed  upon  him  as  her  own.  A.  client 
 in  Rome  was  something  higher  than  a  slave  and  some- 
 thing less  than  a  freeman.  He  could  hold  property,  but 
 owed  more  than  feudal  service  to  his  patron,  and  could 
 never  act  in  any  public  matter  against  his  will.  One 
 day,  on  the  way  to  her  school,  the  lass  was  .seized  by 
 this  client,  her  pretended  owner,  but  the  crowd,  which 
 was  drawn  together  by  the  outcries  of  her  maid,  on  see- 
 ing her  beauty  and  learning  the  names  of  her  father  and 
 affianced  husband,  promptly  interfered  and  rendered 
 forcible  abduction  impossible.  They  were  somewhat 
 appeased  by  the  apparent  fairness  of  the  tool  of  the  De- 
 cemvir, who  disclaimed  violence,  and  was  only  about  to 
 institute  his  claim  to  the  girl  in  a  strictly  legal  manner. 
 Accordingly  he  was  suffered  to  bring  her  before  the 
 magistrate,  then  in  his  judgment  seat  surrounded  by  his 
 lictors,  before  whom  he  made  his  formal  demand.  Such 
 was  Roman  slavery,  that,  had  his  statement  been  true, 
 or  had  a  judex,  perhaps  corruptly,  found  it  to  be  true, 
 no  limitation  of  time  which  bars   all  other  demands,  no 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.  BLISS.  193 
 
 refinement  of  manners  which  elevates  their  possessor 
 above  servile  employments,  no  affection  of  family  or 
 friends  who  would  retain  her  in  the  sphere  in  which 
 she  had  been  reared,  no  offer  to  the  claimant  of  pecuni- 
 ar)'' compensation,  which  heals  all  wrongs  and  satisfies 
 all  other  claims,  could  have  availed  the  poor  girl.  As 
 the  property  of  the  demandant,  she  was  absolutely  and 
 forever  subject  to  his  will.  But  there  was  also  a  law  in 
 Rome  that  made  the  condition  of  servitude  an  affirma- 
 tive fact  to  be  established,  and  it  was  expressly  re-enact- 
 ed in  the  Twelve  Tables  that,  until  final  trial,  persons 
 claimed  as  slaves,  should  be  left  in  possession  of  their 
 freedom,  although  they  were  required  to  give  bail  for 
 their  appearance.  It  would  certainly  seem  that  Vir- 
 ginia was  in  no  danger,  for  the  story  of  her  birth  was  a 
 fiction;  it  of  course  could  never  be  substantiated  and  in 
 the  mean  time  the  law  preserved  her  from  the  hands  of 
 the  claimant.  It  was  not  yet  known  that  the  whole  pro- 
 ceeding had  been  set  on  foot  by  the  magistrate  himself, 
 nor  could  it  be  imagined  that  even  Appius  would  disre- 
 gard one  of  the  provisions  of  his  own  code  which  he 
 had  just  caused  to  be  engraved  upon  brass  and  placed  in 
 the  comitium.  To  prevent  the  violation  of  law  by  such 
 magistrates  as  he,  was  one  of  the  objects  sought  by  Ter- 
 rentelius,  in  demanding  that  the  laws  be  reduced  to  writ- 
 ing and  published. 
 
 So  far  the  pretended  master  of  the  girl  had  only 
 presented  his  formal  demand,  the  selection  of  a  judex 
 and  the  trial  were  to  be  at  some  future  day  to  be  named. 
 By  a  later  enactment,  the  time  for  the  second  appearance 
 was  fixed  at  thirty  days,  although  now,  it  was  left  to  the 
 discretion  of  the  magistrate.  Appius  was  too  consider- 
 rate  to  hurry  on  the  proceeding  and  kindly  consented  to 
 its  postponement,  but  the  girl  was  under  the  paternal 
 
194  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 power,  and  inasmuch  as  no  one-  except  the  lather  could 
 give  lawful  bail  for  her  appearance,  he  directed  the 
 claimant  to  take  her  to  his  house  and  give  security  for 
 her  forthcoming-  when  the  father  should  answer  the 
 summons.  Imagine  the  import  of  this.  She  was  to  be 
 taken  by  this  dependant  of  Appius,  both  living  perhaps 
 within  the  same  walls,  and  taken  as  his  slave,  legally  sub- 
 ject to  his  absolute  control  even  to  the  taking  of  life. 
 The  bystanders,  it  by  this  time  they  did  not  see  the 
 object  of  the  whole  proceeding,  clearly  saw  the  effect  of 
 this  order,  and  sent  up  a  groan  of  indignation.  Icilius, 
 who  had  just  heard  of  the  conspiracy  against  the  honor 
 of  his  affianced,  pressed  forward  through  the  lictors, 
 took  his  stand  by  her  side,  was  followed  by  a  crowd  of 
 sympathisers,  and  the  hounds  were  for  the  time  balked 
 of  their  prey.  Meeting  with  this  unexpected  obstacle, 
 the  Decemvir  was  forced  to  temporise,  and,  trusting  to 
 the  cooling  effect  upon  the  crowd  of  a  little  delay,  and 
 to  his  ability  to  bring  upon  the  ground  a  force  sufficient 
 to  overcome  all  resistance,  announced  that  he  would  take 
 bail  for  her  appearance  in  the  morning  when  he  would 
 decide  the  preliminary  question  as  to  the  custody  of  the 
 young  girl,  until  the  time  for  sending  the  parties  before 
 the  judex. 
 
 While  Icilius  detained  the  court  in  arranging  as  to 
 sureties,  two  friends  of  Virginius  secretly  withdrew  and 
 rode  with  all  speed  to  the  camp,  well  knowing  that  a 
 little  delay  would  result  in  his  being  prevented  from  re- 
 turning to  the  city,  The  brave  centurion  thus  notified, 
 at  once  obtained  leave  of  absence,  and  was  on  his  way 
 to  the  rescue  of  his  child  before  the  messengers  of  the 
 Decemvir  had  reached  the  army  with  a  command  for 
 his  detention.  Thus  the  wings  of  friendship  were 
 swifter  than  those   of  lust.      There   was   little   sleep  that 
 
LECTURE  OF   PROF.    BLISS  195 
 
 night  in  the  house  of  Vivginius.  The  animus  of  the 
 Decemvir  must  have  been  suspected  and  if  the  suspicion 
 should  be  verified  there  was  little  room  for  hope.  The 
 implicit  obedience  given  to  the  orders  of  our  own  courts 
 furnish  but  an  imperfect  idea  of  the  power  of  the  De- 
 cemviral  tribunal.  This  man  was  not  only  the  highest 
 judge,  but  he  was  as  a  very  king.  His  curule  seat  or 
 throne,  his  robes,  his  eagle-mounted  scepter,  his  lictors 
 were  all  royal.  He  sat  precisely  as  had  the  Tarquins, 
 lacking  only  the  crown."  In  him  was  centered  for  the 
 time  the  power  of  the  Consuls,  the  Proetors,  the  Tri- 
 bunes, the  Quaestors,  the  Ediles;  any  resistance  to  his 
 authority  was  not  simply  a  contempt  of  court,  it  was  re- 
 bellion and  death. 
 
 Early  in  the  morning  came  the  Decemvir  prepared 
 to  meet  any  resistance.  Also  came  Virginias  in  the  at- 
 tire of  a  suppliant,  followed  by  a  great  company  of 
 Roman  matrons  and  friends,  and,  as  he  led  his  daughter 
 into  the  forum,  appealing  to  the  bystanders,  showing 
 that  his  cause  was  the  cause  of  all,  Icilius  joined  him 
 and  also  invoked  his  friends  and  the  Roman  moth- 
 ers who  had  followed  them,  added  their  tears  to  the 
 general  sorrow.  The  multitude  were  moved  by  the 
 scene,  but  Appius  had  prepared  himself  for  any  emer- 
 gency by  bringing  to  the  Forum — into  court  as  we  should 
 say — a  band  of  armed  patricians  to  aid  his  regular  lictors 
 in  enforcing  any  order  he  might  make.  The  client  and 
 pretended  master  Marcus  Claudius,  renewed  his  demand 
 and  the  ermined  scoundrel,  eager  for  the  possession  of 
 her  person,  hastened  to  decree  that  until  ihe  cause  should 
 be  remanded  to  a  judex,  the  maiden  should  be  delivered 
 as  a  slave  into  the  possession  of  her  master.  All  were 
 shocked  by  so  bald  a  defiance  of  law.  I  say  all,  but  I 
 do    not    include    those    bands    of  patrician    ruffians  who 
 
196  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 were  always  ready  to  second  any  outrage  upon  the  com- 
 mons, or  upon  the  honor  of  plebian  families.  Marcus 
 went  to  lay  hold  of  the  girl,  Virginius  threatened,  the 
 matrons  wept  aloud,  and  the  friends  of  the  centurion 
 hurled  back  the  despot's  minion.  This  was  an  open  de- 
 fiance of  the  court,  was  rebellion,  illegal  in  form, 
 though  in  the  interest  of  law.  In  Republican  and  Pa- 
 gan Rome  trials  happily  were  public — secret  tribunals 
 were  reserved  for  another  age  and  another  faith — the 
 reverence  tor  law  which  pre-eminently  controlled  the 
 Roman  commons — that  conservative  instinct,  so  essen- 
 tial to  the  life  of  a  free  state — had  rendered  these  trials, 
 although  held  in  the  open  market  place,  as  orderly  as  in 
 any  modern  hall  of  justice.  And  even  now,  und.^r  a 
 provocation  that  would  justify  any  resistance,  the  habit- 
 ual reverence  and  respect  felt  for  the  law  and  its  admin- 
 istration by  those  who  thus  witnessed  their  fearful  pros- 
 titution, served  well  the  purpose  of  the  tyrant.  The 
 power  of  the  Tribunes  had  been  suspended,  Consuls  and 
 Proetors  and  Dictators  had  all  given  way  to  the  Council 
 of  Ten,  and  Appius  sat  in  the  forum,  in  the  accustomed 
 seat  of  soverignty,  as  the  sole  representative  of  the  maj- 
 esty of  the  law.  Rising  in  his  robes  of  office,  seeing 
 on  either  side  his  lictors  with  their  axes,  and  behind 
 them  his  bands  of  retainers  and  of  armed  patrician 
 youth,  all  ready  to  do  his  bidding,  his  heart  was  re-as- 
 sured. Stretching  forth  his  scepter,  he  boldly  doomed 
 to  death  all  who  should  resist  his  mandate  and,  pointing 
 to  the  trembling  maiden,  loudly  ordered  the  lictors  to 
 disperse  the  mob  and  deliver  her  to  her  master.  As 
 the  officers  stept  forward  to  obey,  the  people  instinctive- 
 ly recoiled,  leaving  the  father  and  lover  alone  with  the 
 unhappy  girl.  They  saw  that  it  was  impossible  to  re- 
 sist, and  also  saw,  and  with  terrible  distinctness,  the  fate 
 
LECTURE  OF   PROF,  BLISS.  197 
 
 that  awaited  her.  As  Virginius  looked  upon  his  daugh- 
 ter, a  terrible  anguish  and  uncertainty  overspread  his 
 face.  But  as  he  looked  again  at  Appius  and  at  the  ap- 
 proaching lictors,  the  cloud  rolled  away  and  was  follow- 
 ed by  a  strange  exaltation.  He  asked  permission  to  take 
 his  daughter  and  her  maid  one  side  to  learn  from  the 
 latter  whether  the  story  of  Marcus  was  true,  and  the 
 tyrant,  seeing  it  to  be  impossible  for  them  to  escape,  and 
 not  wishing  to  seem  wantonly  severe,  granted  the  re- 
 quest. The  poor  girl  was  bewildered,  could  hardly 
 take  in  the  import  of  what  was  passing,  but  with  child- 
 ish faith  clung  to  her  lather,  while  almost  recoiling  from 
 the  unwonted  fire  that  lit  his  eye.  He  led  her  to  the 
 side  of  the  forum,  where  was  a  butcher's  stall,  seized 
 a  knife  and,  huskily  saying,"This  my  daughter  will  keep 
 thee  free,11  plunged  it  to  her  heart.  Raising  the  stream- 
 ing blade  and  turning  to  the  baffled  Decemvir  he  ex- 
 claimed, "Upon  thy  head,  tyrant  accursed,  be  the  blood; 
 of  this  child,11  and  boldly  marching  through  the  Forum,. 
 all  giving  way  and  the  lictors  themselves  too  paralized 
 to  obey  the  orders  of  Appius  to  arrest  him,  he  mounted 
 his  horse  and  rode  for  the  camp. 
 
 Icilius  had  rushed  to  the  side  of  Virginius  and  re- 
 ceived the  slain  maiden  from  his  hand.  By  the  aid  of 
 his  friend  Numatorius,  he  improvised  a  litter  and  raised 
 the  body  to  the  view  of  all.  ]S!o  mother  was  there,  she 
 had  long  since  died,  and  sisters  she  had  none,  but  the 
 young  brothers,  the  kinsman  and  a  multitude  of  friends, 
 all  crowded  round.  Some  wailed,  some  cursed,  some 
 only  wept.  They  deplored  the  fatal  beauty  of  Virginia, 
 the  dire  necessity  of  the  father.  "Is  it  for  this11  exclaim- 
 ed the  matrons,  "that  we  rear  our  daughters  in  virtue?" 
 A  sad  procession  started  for  the  home  of  Virginius  upon 
 the  Aventine.    Icilius  was  known  to  all:  be  was  too  full  to 
 
198  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 weep,  almost  to  speak;  as  he  led  the  procession  and  rec- 
 ognized his  friends  he  could  only  point  to  the  body  and 
 to  the  forum  where  Appius  still  sat.  To  young-  Ve- 
 suvius, just  coming-  in  from  the  country,  known  to  be 
 betrothed  to  a  friend  of  Virginia  and  clamorously  won- 
 dering what  all  this  meant,  he  could  only  say:  "Your 
 turn  my  friend  will  come  next."  In  threading  the  Ve- 
 labrum  and  passing  under  the  Palatine,  the  first  home 
 of  the  robber  band  that  founded  the  citv  and  the  con- 
 tinued home  of  their  robber  descendants,  Icilius  could 
 but  hurl  a  halt  smothered  curse  at  the  gloomy  houses  of 
 the  tyrant  caste,  as  their  dark  walls  frowned  down  upon 
 them.  But  soon  the  procession  rose  from  the  valley  and 
 the  body  was  tenderly  deposited  in  the  house  of  Virgin- 
 ius.  "Dearest,"  said  the  patriot  lover  as  he  stooped  to 
 imprint  a  fevered  kiss,  "thou  shall  yet  rest  in  peace!  the 
 tyrant  shall  die!  Let  thy  shade  attend  me  until  sweet 
 revenge  shall  open  to  thee  the  gates  of  the  blest!"  and 
 tearing  themselves  away  he  and  his  friend  left  for  sterner 
 duties. 
 
 Thev  were  not  allowed  to  begin  the  fight.  Appius 
 had  ordered  Icilius  to  be  seized,  and  he  himself,  leading 
 his  lictors  and  the  band  of  young  patricians  that  sur- 
 rounded him,  rushed  forward  to  make  the  arrest.  But 
 in  the  mean  time  Valerius  and  Horatius,  leaders  of  the 
 small  band  of  patricians,  who  had  always  sought  justice 
 for  the  plebians,  had  appeared  upon  the  scene  and 
 rallied  the  people  around  Icilius.  Their  appeals  fell  on 
 willing  ears.  The  shopman  who  had  daily  smiled 
 upon  the  young  girl,  as,  in  her  fresh  beauty,  with  pencil 
 and  tablet,  she  passed  on  her  way  to  school,  the  father 
 who  thought  of  his  daughters  at  home,  the  lover  who 
 knew  not  but  the  turn  of  his  own  betrothed  would  come 
 next,  the  citizen  who,  after  having  obtained  the  codifica- 
 
LECTURE  OF    PROF.    BLISS.  199 
 
 tion  of  the  laws  and  their  equal  application  to  all,  had 
 fancied  himself  secure  in  his  rights,  all  felt  that  the  cause 
 was  theirs,  and  placed  themseves  under  their  new  lead- 
 ers. The  fasces  of  the  lictors  were  broken  and  the  pa- 
 trician band  was  driven  back.  Appius  again  mounts  his 
 throne  and  demands  obedience.  Valerius,  speaking  with 
 the  authority  of  a  senator,  pronounces  him  a  usurper 
 and  orders  his  guards  to  leave  him.  But  by  this  time 
 the  story  of  the  Decemvir's  crime  had  run  through  the 
 city;  the  whole  body  of  the  commons  had  become 
 aroused  and  the  mad  murmur  ot  the  thick  gathering 
 crowd,  like  the  roar  of  approaching  breakers,  paralized 
 the  lictors  and  the  young  bravos  who  had  come  to  see 
 the  sport  -and  to  enforce  the  degradation  of  a  plebian 
 house,  slunk  out  of  sight. 
 
 Appius  is  left  alone  with  his  lictors.  See  the  aris- 
 tocrat, the  demagogue,  the  tyrant,  as,  now  pale,  now 
 red,  he  crouches  with  terror  at  some  fresh  burst  of  pop- 
 ular wrath,  or,  assuming  courage  as  the  storm  may  seem 
 to  lull,  pours  out  anathemas  in  the  name  of  the  gods 
 and  of  Rome,  or,  struck  by  a  fresh  missile,  pales  again, 
 stretches  out  his  scepter,  wondering  that  the  emblem  of 
 sovreignty  to  which  all  were  wont  to  bow,  should  no 
 longer  protect  him !  What  now  to  him  are  the  roval 
 robes,  what  the  ivory  scepter,  the  curule  chair!  See 
 Icilius,  the  pale  stern  lover,  the  peoples,  friend,  as,  under 
 the  wing  of  the  two  senators,  he  leads  them  on!  Hear 
 him  shout  the  curse  of  the  blood  stained  father,  "On  thy 
 head,  tyrant  accursed,  be  the  blood  of  this  child!"  Ah, 
 sir;  this  is  not  the  couch  to  which  you  invited  yourself, 
 nor  the  dalliance  which  you  craved!  Look!  The 
 missiles  come  thicker  and  faster.  Bruised  and  bleeding, 
 covering  his  head  with  his  robe  of  state,  the  Decemvir 
 bids  the  lictors  hurry  him  off,  and    he  succeeds  in  hiding* 
 
200  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 himself  behind  a  near  and  friendly  wall. 
 
 History  repeats  itself.  Almost  in  our  own  day  we 
 have  seen  a  Jeffries,  the.  browbeating,  the  cruel,  the  un- 
 just judge,  cower  in  abject  terror  behind  prison  walls,  as 
 he  hears  the  people  cry  for  vengeance  upon  his  guilty 
 head. 
 
 Oppius,  one  of  the  Decemvirs,  finding  his  colleague 
 Appius  already  driven  from  the  seat  of  power  and  the 
 city  in  an  insurrection  which  he  was  impotent  to  quell, 
 called  together  the  Senate.  This  seems  to  be  the  only 
 body  whose  authority  at  this  time  was  not  superceded  by 
 that  of  the  Decemvirs.  Its  constitutional  existence,  with 
 great  but  somewhat  varying  authority,  was,  at  all  times 
 and  by  all  parties,  treated  as  a  matter  of  course.  The 
 Senate  met;  it  was  not  disposed  to  hurry  in  its  delibera- 
 tions, thinking  perhaps  that  the  popular  fever  would 
 cool ;  the  army  at  least  was  secure. 
 
 We  left  Virginius  on  his  way  to  the  army  stained 
 with  blood  and  bearing  the  bloody  knife  with  which  he 
 had  delivered  his  daughtei'.  He  was  followed  by  many 
 who  had  witnessed  the  scene.  The  story  of  her  sad 
 fate,  of  the  passion  and  cruel  judgment  of  Appius,  flew 
 through  the  camp.  Had  there  been  no  other  ground  of 
 complaint,  this  might  not  have- been  sufficient  to  drive 
 the  citizen  soldiers  to  extreme  measures.  But  as  we 
 have  seen,  immediately  upon  the  election  of  the  last  De- 
 cemvirs, Appius  had  deserted  those  who  had  chosen  him 
 and  reconciled  himself  to  the  aristocracy.  To  earn  its  fa- 
 vor he  had  at  all  times  abetted  or  winked  at  the  custom- 
 ary outrages  upon  the  commons,  a  favorite  one  being  the 
 profanation  of  their  families.  It  is  related  also  that  a 
 distinguished  soldier,  whose  body  showed  scars  from 
 wounds  received  in  more  than  a  hundred  battles,  but  who 
 had  offended  the   Decemvirs,  had  been   found  dead  near 
 
LECTURE    OF  PROF.    BLISS.  201 
 
 the  camp,  and  that  circumstances  pointed  clearly  to  those 
 m  command  as  having  procured  his  assassination.  Un- 
 der these  circumstances  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  story  of 
 Virginius  was  like  a  spark  to  a  magazine.  The  legion 
 rose  as  one  man,  threw  off  the  authority  of  its  comman- 
 der, marched  to  Rome,  entered  the  Colline  gate  in  mar- 
 tial order,  threaded  the  chief  streets  and  camped  on 
 Mount  Aventine.  They  elected  ten  military  tribunes 
 and  refused  to  receive  any  message  from  the  Senate  un- 
 less sent  thi'ough  their  friends  Valerius  and  Horatius. 
 In  the  mean  time  Icilius  and  his  friend  Numitorius  had 
 gone  to  another  camp  of  the  Romans  at  Fedina?  and  the 
 same  story  produced  the  same  effect.  This  army  also 
 expelled  its  commander,  chose  other  ten  Tribunes  of  the 
 soldiers,  marched  to  Rome  and  joined  their  brethren 
 upon  the  plebian  hill.  Here  the  Tribunes  chose  two  to 
 represent  the  twenty,  and  all  waited  to  hear  from  the 
 Senate.  But  that  body  temporized,  it  had  no  love  for 
 the  Decemvirs,  nor  can  we  believe  that  the  senators  ap- 
 proved of  the  personal  indignities  from  which  so  many 
 of  the  commons  had  suffered,  but  it  hated  the  Tribu- 
 nate and  the  Tribunate  was  just  what  the  people  wanted. 
 Every  other  scheme  for  protection  had  failed,  while  this 
 seemingly  anarchial  magistracy  had  usually  been  suc- 
 cessful, and  the  Senators  had  no  hope,  if  the  present 
 government  should  be  suppressed,  of  being  able  to  avoid 
 its  restoration. 
 
 The  Senate  made  no  movement  toward  pacification 
 and  the  commons  saw  that  they  must  do  something 
 more  than  appeal  to  its  sense  of  justice.  For  nearly 
 a  hundred  years  the  struggle  had  been  going  on.  Two 
 of  the  later  kings  had  been  murdered  because  of  their 
 desire  to  recognize  the  plebs  as  part  of  the  State, 
 to  protect  them  from  the  rapacity  of  the  patricians;  the 
 
202  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 last  king  had  oppressed  both  orders  and  the  subordi- 
 nate one  had  been  induced  to  unite  in  his  expulsion  by 
 being-  promised  a  constitution  that  should  guard  their 
 rights.  In  many  subsequent  struggles  the  plebians  suc- 
 ceeded in  procuring  the  passage  of  laws,  which,  had  they 
 been  observed,  would  have  given  them  reasonable  pro- 
 tection, but  in  every  case  they  were  trampled  under  foot 
 or  rendered  nugatory  by  patrician  perfidy.  Finally, 
 after  a  ten  year's  struggle,  they  had  obtained  an  excel- 
 lent code  of  laws,  to  whose  protection  they,  as  well  as 
 the  patricians,  were  entitled,  had  surrendered  their  own 
 special  magistracy — their  own  separate  existence  as  it 
 were — that  the  Romans  might  be  one  people  and  had 
 elected  one  which  they  supposed  could  be  trusted.  But 
 this  panacea  for  all  their  ills  had  turned  to  ashes  on 
 their  lips.  Their  old  enemies  had  seduced  the  magis- 
 trates; the  most  sacred  of  laws  was  trampled  under  foot; 
 they  could"  no  longer  look  to  the  Tribunes  for  protec- 
 tion, and  they  seemed  more  helpless  than  ever.  While 
 the  remembrance  of  these  things  inspired  only  despair  of 
 justice  at  home  it  also  nerved  their  will  and  turned  even 
 their  patriotism  into  hate.  "Why,"  exclaimed  they, 
 "should  we  longer  hold  connection  with  an  order  bound 
 by  no  oaths,  subject  to  no  laws,  bent  only  upon  monop- 
 oly and  oppression?  We  form  the  great  body  of  the 
 army, — without  the  solid  cohorts  composed  of  the  peas- 
 ant freeholders  of  Rome  it  would  be  weak  and  worth- 
 less— why  not  march  out,  carry  with  us  our  little  move- 
 ables, but  especially  our  newly  won  laws,  and  establish  a 
 new  Rome?  Why  not  leave  the  lawless  patricians 
 with  their  clients  and  slaves  to  defend  territory  which 
 they  insist  on  monopolizing  and  to  pursue  alone  their 
 career  of  conquest."  Thus  reasoned  the  commons,  and 
 they  again   determined   to  leave   the  city.     "Ho  for  the 
 
LECTURE   OF    PROF.   BLISS.  203 
 
 sacred  mount!"  was  shouted  from  the  hills  and  rang 
 through  the  plebian  quarters,  and  the  legions  again 
 marched  down  the  Aventine,  through  the  Velabrum,  up 
 the  valley,  crossing  the  forum,  threading  the  Subura, 
 passing  up  to  the  plain  behind  the  Quirinal  and  Vimi- 
 nal  hills  and  out  through  the  Colline  gate.  They  were 
 followed  by  their  families  and  such  of  their  order  as 
 could  leave,  and  the  whole  proceeded  to  occupy  the  sa- 
 cred mount  just  beyond  the  Anio.  The  pomerium  of  a 
 new  city  was  traced  and  the  walls  began  to  rise.  The 
 Senate,  seeing  the  scceders  in  earnest,  took  the  alarm. 
 Whatever  the  fate  of  the  new  city,  the  old  would  cer- 
 tainly he  ruined.  Mons  Sacra  was  within  the  Roman 
 territory,  the  seceders  were  the  stronger  of  the  two  par- 
 ties, they  would  not  he  likely  to  surrender  their  holdings 
 outside  the  city  walls  or  to  permit  their  enemies  to  con- 
 tinue to  hold  the  common  territory  of  the  Repuhlic.  A 
 delegation  was  at  once  sent  to  the  sacred  mouitt  to  learn 
 what  was  demanded.  The  messengers  were  Horatius 
 and  Valerius,  to  whom  alone,  as  before  announced, 
 would  the  commons  listen.  Their  absolute  demands 
 were  very  moderate:  First,  the  restoration  of  the  Tri- 
 bunate; second,  the  right  of  appeal  to  the  Centuries  or 
 Tribes  from  the  criminal  judgments  of  the  patrician 
 magistrates;  third,  that  the  Decemvirs  be  given  up  to 
 be  burned  with  fire,  and  fourth,  amnesty.  These  were 
 the  ultimatum,  although  it  is  probable  that  the  messen- 
 gers were  given  to  understand  that  the  commons  would 
 demand  in  a  regular  wav  new  constitutional  concessions 
 substantially  like  those  embraced  in  what  were  shortly 
 known  as  the  Licinian  Laws.  They' were  induced  to 
 forego  their  demand  for  the  blood  of  the  Decemvirs 
 and,  as  a  pledge  that  the  others  should  be  complied  with, 
 possession    of  the    Capitoline    Hill,  embracing    not   only 
 
204  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 the  citadel  but  the  sacra  of  the  state,  was  to  be  surren- 
 dered to  them.  On  the  return  of  the  commissioners  the 
 Senate  was  but  too  glad  to  accept  the  proffered  condi- 
 tions, directed  the  Decemvirs  to  abdicate,  which  was 
 done,  and  the  commons  returned,  took  possession  of  the 
 Capitol,  and,  if  they  had  ever  wholly  given  it  up,  reoc- 
 eupied  their  own  Aventine,  and   elected  their   Tribunes. 
 
 In  this  connection,  to  make  the  story  of  Virginia 
 complete,  I  may  be  permitted  to  speak  of  the  fate  of 
 Appius,  although  it  was  not  met  until  after  the  adoption 
 of  the  Licinian  constitution,  which  was  next  in  the  order 
 of  time. 
 
 Although  the  leaders  of  the  seceders  had  waived 
 their  demand  that  the  Decemvirs  be  outlawed,  it  is  not 
 to  be  supposed  that  any  idea  was  entertained  of  exempt- 
 ing Appius  Claudius  from  responsibility  for  his  crime. 
 Under  our  system,  a  judge  cannot  be  held  responsible 
 by  a  civil  or  criminal  proceeding  for  errors,  even 
 though  malicious  ones,  committed  in  discharging  the 
 duties  of  his  office,  and  impeachment  only  removes  him 
 from  office,  although  in  England  it  may  have  a  much 
 more  serious  result.  The  Tribunes  were  empowered  to 
 impeach  before  their  own  constituents,  the  plebian  tribes, 
 any  patrician,  although  a  Consul  or  Senator,  who  should 
 violate  the  laws  enacted  for  the  special  protection  of  the 
 commons  or  their  officers,  and  under  this  power,  dis- 
 tinguished citizens  like  Coriolanus,  and  Keso  Quinctius, 
 the  son  of  Cincinnatus,  had  been  driven  into  exile. 
 The  tribunate  is  now  restored  and  Virginius  and  Icilius 
 are  two  of  the  Tribunes.  It  is  too  much  to  expect  that 
 they  could  forget  Che  recent  outrage  upon  the  law  under 
 which  the  former  felt  compelled  to  take  the  life  of  a 
 dear  daughter  in  order  to  protect  her  from  the  ruffianly 
 arms  of  a   judge  whom  the  law  made  her  shield  and  pro- 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.     BLI«S.  206 
 
 tector.  Appius  the  tyrant  is  impeached  by  Virginius 
 his  victim.  Instead  of  quietly  submitting  to  his  fate,  or 
 perhaps  avoiding  it  by  a  modest  bearing,  he  accelerated 
 it  by  appearing  in  the  Forum  surrounded  by  his  patri- 
 cian bravos,  as  if  to  overawe  the  tribune.  The  first  ques- 
 tion in  all  cases  of  arrest  is  that  of  bail.  Most  offences 
 were  then,  as  they  are  now,  bailable.  Ordinarily,  then 
 as  now,  capital  offenses  were  not.  For  a  magistrate 
 during  a  trial  to  wilfully  violate  a  plain  law  involving 
 life  or  liberty,  was,  especially  under  impeachment,  a 
 capital  offense.  Virginius  therefore  ruled  that  an  issue 
 should  be  made  up,  to  be  tried  before  a  judex  as  a  pre- 
 liminary question,  whether  Appius  "had  not  in  a  ques- 
 tion of  personal  freedom,  assumed  that  the  presumption 
 was  in  favor  of  slavery,  in  having  adjudged  Virginia  to 
 be  regarded  as  a  slave  till  she  was  proved  free,  instead 
 of  regarding  her  as  entitled  to  her  freedom  till  she  was 
 proved  a  slave."  He  of  course  could  not  meet  this  issue 
 and  pending  his  trial  was  ordered  to  the  terrible  Ma- 
 mertine  prison.  Before  being  committed  his  uncle,  not 
 only  a  very  respectable  citizen,  but  an  opponent  of  the 
 mad  schemes  of  his  nephew,  appeared  and  besought  the 
 Tribunes  to  accept  bail.  It  would  be  a  disgrace  to 
 Rome  said  he  to  throw  into  the  dungeon  with  burglars 
 and  robbers,  one  who  had  been  chief  magistrate  of  the 
 city,  but  they  all  sternly  refused.  The  prison  into 
 which  he  was  cast  was  built  near  the  Forum  by  king 
 Servius  Tullius,  and  its  lower  vaults  are  as  gloomy  and 
 solid  to-day  as  they  were  twenty-five  hundred  years  ago. 
 Appius  never  came  out.  Before  the  day  of  trial  he 
 was  found  dead  and  it  was  reported  that  in  dispair  of  the 
 result,  he  had  taken  his  own  life.  Oppius  was  also 
 thrown  into  prison  and  shared  the  same  fate.  Marcus 
 Claudius,  the  tool  of  Appius,  and  the  rest  of  the  Decern- 
 
206 
 
 UNIVKKSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 virs  were  suffered  to  go  into  exile,  and  thus  in  the  lan- 
 guage of  Livy,  "'The  shade  of  Virginia,  more  fortunate 
 after  death  than  when  living,  after  having  roamed 
 through  so  many  families  in  quest  of  vengeance,  at 
 length  rested  in  peace  satisfied  that  all  the  guilty  were 
 punished.1'  And  we  may  well  believe  that  this  stern 
 retribution  not  only  gave  rest  to  the  ghost  of  the  fair 
 maiden,  but  that  fathers  and  mothers  felt  safer  in  Rome 
 from  the  outcome  of  this  conspiracy  against  the  honor 
 of  the  family  of   Virginius. 
 
^^CORRECTIONS.  =?C 
 
 For  «  Plebians  "  read  «  Plehaeans,"  passim. 
 
 «  Terrentelius"  read  «  Terrentilius,"  passim, 
 "jus  naturce"   page  1S6,   line    15,   read   "jus  naturale," 
 and  in  next  line  insert  "citizens  of"  before  "  Rome.'1 
 "The  legion  rose  as  one  man,"  on  page   201,  lines  3  and 
 4,  read  "  The  body  of  the  legion  rose." 
 
 "ultimatum"  page  203,  8th  line  from  bottom,  read  "ulti- 
 mata." 
 
 was"  page  187,  line  9,  read  "were." 
 
 "       u 
 
LINGUISTIC  CURIOSITIES. 
 
 By  David  R.  McAnally,  Jr.,  A.  M.,  Professob 
 of  English  Literature  in  the  University  of 
 the  State  of  Missouri. 
 
 With  a  zeal  worthy  of  a  better  cause,  the  disciples 
 of  Darwin  have  labored  long  and  earnestly  to  show 
 how  a  scientist  of  the  modern  school  may  be  evolved 
 from  a  lower  order  of  animal.  Taking  a  monkey  as 
 raw  material,  they  have  driven  back  his  jaw,  elevated 
 his  nose,. broadened  his  forehead,  enlarged  the  capacity 
 of  his  skull,  shortened  his  arms,  lengthened  his  legs, 
 turned  his  first  finger  over  to  represent  a  thumb,  endow- 
 ed him  with  one  faculty  akin  to  reason,  a  second  some- 
 thing like  memory,  the  idea  of  property,  and  a  distant 
 conception  of  the  notion  of  right  and  wrong;  but  here, 
 unfortunately  for  themselves,  they  were  forced  to  call  a 
 halt.  Could  they  have  proceeded  one  step  father,  and 
 made  the  animal  talk,  or  utter  so  much  as  a  single  word, 
 they  might  have  claimed  a  grand  victory  for  themselves 
 and  the  monkey;  but  the  monkey  held  his  peace,  and 
 the  scientists  perceived  that,  leaving  the  spark  of  im- 
 mortality out  of  the  question,  the  beast  was  of  an  entire- 
 ly different  family;  that  between  him  and  themselves 
 there  was  a  great  gulf  fixed;  that  they  could  neither 
 pass  to  him  nor  he  to  them.     Darwin,  and   Huxley,  and 
 
208  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 their  like,  have  made  interesting-  discoveries  in  natural 
 history,  but  the  investigations  of  many  a  long  lifetime, 
 given  up  to  experimenting  and  speculating,  have  un- 
 earthed no  more  curious  fact  than  the  one  known  from 
 the  beginning — that  language  belongs  to  man  alone. 
 Commonplace  as  the  idea  has  become,  through  millions 
 of  repetitions,  it  is  yet  worthy  of  careful  consideration; 
 and,  beyond  all  question,  the  closer  the  examination  of 
 it,  the  more  curious  will  it  appear.  From  the  savage 
 bushman  of  the  South  African  plains,  whose  vocal 
 clicks  sounded  so  much  like  a  combination  of  the  sylla- 
 ble "hot"  with  "tot"  that  more  civilized  men  called  him 
 a  "Hottentot,"  to  the  Parisian  of  to-day,  who  derives 
 the  name  of  his  race  and  country  from  the  most  gener- 
 ous people  known  in  history;  from  the  Digger  Indian 
 to  the  occupant  of  an  English  palace;  from  Peter,  the 
 wild  boy,  to  Shakspeare,  the  possession  of  language 
 unites,  as  with  an  iron  band,  the  human  race  in  one  vast 
 family.  Existing  before  society,  without  it  society 
 wTould  be  an  impossibility;  and  a  band  of  men  would 
 have  no  more  permanent  bond  of  union  than  would  a 
 herd  of  cattle,  or  a  school  of  porpoises.  It  enables  the 
 merchant  to  get  lawful  gain,  the  miser  to  accumulate 
 unlawful  gold;  it  helps  the  farmer  to  sow  his  wheat,  and 
 the  miller  to  grind  his  grain;  it  is  the  doctor's  chief  as- 
 sistant, and  the  lawyer's  reliance.  Without  it,  our  fel- 
 lowmen  could  not  care  for  our  bodies,  nor  our  clergy- 
 men for  our  souls.  "Therewith  bless  we  God,  even  the 
 Father;  and  therewith  curse  we  men,  which  are  made 
 after  the  similitude  of  God." 
 
 It  is  a  perfectly  natural  consequence,  therefore,  of 
 the  universality  of  language  among  men,  that  it  should 
 constitute  a  sure  index  to  character.  A  great  diplomat- 
 ist of  the  past  has  had  the  credit  of  saying,  "Language 
 
LECTURE!   OF  PROF.   MCANALLY.  209 
 
 was  given  us  to  conceal  rather  than  to  reveal  our 
 thoughts,"  hut  he  belied  his  own  words.  There  is  a  wide 
 difference  between  being  deceitful  and  indicating  charac- 
 ter by  unguarded  utterances.  Many  deceive  others,  and 
 even  themselves,  by  saying  what  they  do  not  mean;  but 
 the  manner,  the  tone,  the  general  characteristics  of  the 
 utterance,  far  more  than  the  matter,  furnish  a  criterion 
 so  infallible  that  no  one,  save  by  his  own  fault,  need  be 
 deceived  or  mistaken.  The  man  who  carefully  weighs 
 every  word  before  he  utters  it,  who  considers  its  purity, 
 its  adaptation  to  the  case  before  him,  and  its  application 
 in  the  conveyance  of  the  idea  he  wishes  to  express,  is,  as 
 a  rule,  a  man  of  order,  of  system,  whose  acts  will  be  the 
 subjects  of  such  deliberation  that,  with  him,  an  error  in 
 conduct  will  he  extremely  improbable.  On  the  other 
 hand,  the  heedless,  incautious,  careless  fellow,  constantly 
 saying  ten  times  as  much  as  he  means,  and  meaning  ten 
 time  as  much  as  he  feels,  the  Alfred  Jingle  of  society, 
 jumping  from  one  subject  to  another,  as  capricious  as 
 the  mountain  goat,  from  which  this  adjective  takes  its 
 name,  is  a  man  really  deserving  of  pity.  He  uses 
 millions  of  words  laboriously  to  say  nothing,  and  though 
 possessed  of  two  ears,  two  eyes,  two  hands,  and  but 
 one  tongue,  persists  in  violating  the  law  of  nature  by 
 talking  more  than  twice  as  much  as  he  hears,  observes, 
 or  performs. 
 
 Passing  by  a  natural  gradation  from  the  individual 
 to  the  aggregation  of  individuals  in  a  nation,  we  find 
 the  same  general  index  of  character  in  a  nation's  lan- 
 guage as  in  that  of  an  individual.  The  modern  Italian 
 is  smooth,  flowing  in  an  even  stream,  without  the  ripple 
 of  a  single  disturbing  consonant;  the  natural  language 
 of  lyvic  poetry  and  of  the  opera,  and  did   we  not  know 
 
210  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 the  fact,  we  might,  from  the  language,  infer  that  the 
 nation  using  this  tongue  is  a  nation  of  opera  singers. 
 French,  the  language  of  polite  conversation,  is  another 
 illustration  of  the  general  statement  that  national  lan- 
 guage is  a  reflex  of  national  character;  while  German, 
 the  language  of  speculation  and  philosophy,  and  Eng- 
 lish, the  language  of  science  and  business,  are,  perhaps, 
 unneeded  examples.  The  statement  has  been  made 
 that  the  national  salutation  furnishes  a  key  to  the 
 national  peculiarities  of  character,  and  there  really 
 seems  to  be  some  ground  for  the  assertion.  The  Span- 
 iard, haughty,  proud  of  his  nationality,  independent,  car- 
 ing for  nobody  but  himself,  enquires:  Come  staP — 
 "How  do  you  stand?"  Erect,  unbending,  he  stands  for 
 himself,  and  hopes  you  do  the  same.  The  French, 
 little  Monsieur  and  Madame,  a\e  carrying  themselves 
 here,  there,  and  everywhere,  in  an  effort  to  find  some- 
 thing n.jw,  or  to  extract  a  little  more  amusement  from 
 something  old.  They  imagine  that  you  must  do  the  like, 
 and  consequently  ask:  '•'•Comment  vous  ftortcz-vous /"' — 
 "How  do  you  carry  yourself?"  as  if  earning  one's  self 
 about  was  the  chief  end  of  man.  One  German  asks: 
 "  Wie  befinden  sie  sick  ?n — "How  do  you  find  yourself?" 
 since  he  likes  to  find  himself  without  much  hunting; 
 while  another  enquires,"  Wie  gehts  ?" — "How  goes  it?" 
 as  being  perfectly  satisfied  to  let  it  go  if  it  wanted  to, 
 since  it  makes  no  difference  to  him.  The  English, 
 "How  are  you?"  is  solid  and  substantial,  while  the 
 American,  "How  do  you  do?"  is  strongly  indicative  of 
 the  driving,  bustling  character  of  our  people,  who  are 
 content  neither  with  standing,  sitting,  carrying  them- 
 selves, finding  themselves,  nor  letting  it  go;  but  must,  as 
 one  of  their  representative  men  has  said,  "be  up  and 
 doing,  with  a  heart  for  any  fate." 
 
I/KCTOKE    OF   PROF.  MCANALLY.  211 
 
 The  learned  and  pious  Dr.  Richard  Trench  has 
 taken  so  much  pains  to  discover  the  hidden  property  of 
 words,  has  forced  so  many  of  them  to  stand  and  deliver 
 their  concealed  goods,  has  burrowed  intc  so  many  out- 
 of-the-way  nooks  and  corners  of  the  English  language, 
 and  dragged  thence  into  the  light  so  many  illustrations 
 of  the  principles  he  laid  down,  that,  in  spite  of  his  occa- 
 sional flights  of  imagination,  and  of  his  proneness  to  see 
 a  little  more  poetry  in  the  history  of  a  word  than  is 
 visible  to  the  average  eye,  his  works  must  long  remain 
 standard.  From  him  we  have  the  idea  that  language  is 
 "fossil  poetry ;"  that  some  words  are  themselves  store- 
 houses of  poetic  thought  and  fancy ;  that,  however  trite 
 they  may  now  appear  to  lis,  by  reason  of  constant  use, 
 they  once  were  triumphs  of  lovely  imagery,  and  per- 
 chance displayed  more  of  the  spirit  of  the  muses  than 
 many  a  labored  production  in  iambics  or  hexameters. 
 Take,  for  example,  the  illustration  he  gives  of  the  word 
 "sierra,"  originally  meaning  a  saw.  The  application  of 
 the  term  to  the  irregularly  jugged  ranges  of  Spain 
 shows  a  poetic  fervor  of  high  grade.  As  Trench  fur- 
 ther remarks,  "For  us,  very  often,  the  poetry  of  words 
 has  in  great  part,  or  altogether,  disappeared.  But  had  it 
 not  existed,  Margaret  had  not  been  for  us  'the  pearl,' 
 nor  Esther,  'the  star,'  nor  Susannah,  'the  lily,'  nor 
 Stephen,  'the  crown.'  "  So  soon,  however,  as  we  enter 
 the  fairy  region  of  word-poetry,  examples  multiply  so 
 rapidly  as  to  defy  mention  or  enumeration.  From  the 
 mass,  two  may  he  selected,  not  as  samples,  but  by  reason 
 of  their  pre-eminently  illustrating  the  fact  that  there 
 really  may  be  poetry  in  a  name.  The  one  is  "topaz,"  so 
 called,  according  to  Pliny,  from  the  Greek  word  iofa- 
 zeiu,  to  guess  or  conjecture,  because  men  were  able  only 
 to  conjecture  the  geographical  position  of  the   mysteri- 
 
212  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 ous,  cloud-covered  island  on  which  the  jewel  was  sup- 
 posed to  be  found;  the  other  is  "carbuncle,"  from  "car- 
 hunculus?  a  "little,  burning  coal."  None  but  a  man  ot 
 lively,  poetic  imagination  could  ever  have  applied  such 
 names  to  these  jewels,  and  the  continuance  of  their  use 
 and  correct  understanding  of  their  signification  gives  an 
 additional  attraction  even  to  the  beautiful  gems  they 
 designate. 
 
 Upon  entering  the  realm  of  the  beautiful,  as  repre- 
 sented by  flowers,  the  poetrjr  becomes  more  plainly 
 manifest.  An  old  Persian  poet,  having  his  claim  to  the 
 title  of  bard  questioned,  declared:  "I  love  God,  flowers 
 and  little  children,"  and  considered  that  he  had  fully  es- 
 tablished his  right.  Certain  it  is,  that  poetry  and 
 flowers  are  always  mentally  associated,  and  it  is  not, 
 therefore,  strange  that  the  beautiful  imagery  of  the  one 
 should  be  found  in  almost  every  name  given  to  plants. 
 Take,  for  instance,  the  beautiful  name,  arbor  vitce^  "the 
 tree  of  life,"  and  how  naturally  and  poetically  it  is  ap- 
 propriated to  that  shrub,  which,  in  winter  snows,  and 
 under  circumstances  of  much  adversity,  still  presents  to 
 our  view  a  cheerful  green.  "The  catch-fly,"  "the  fly- 
 trap," the  "snap-dragon,"  the  "snowball,"  the  "love-in-a- 
 mist,"  the  "love-lies-bleeding,"  the  "trumpet-flower," 
 and  the  "Venus'-looking-glass,"  are  but  further  illustra- 
 tions of  the  poetry  to  be  found  in  the  names  of  flowers; 
 and  the  list  may  be  indefinitely  extended  by  any  one 
 who  cares  to  refer  to  a  floral  dictionary.  The  "sun- 
 flower" and  the  "daisy"  furnish  a  curious  example.  The 
 former  is  so  named  from  the  fact  that  its  yellow  center 
 is  supposed  to  bear  an  imaginary  resemblance  to  the  sun, 
 and  the  white  border  to  the  corona  or  glory  surrounding 
 that  luminary.  The  daisy  is  named  from  the  same  gen- 
 eral resemblance,  but  as  Chaucer  gives  it,  the   name  is 
 
LECTURE  OF    PROP.    MCANALLY.  213 
 
 much  more  poetical.     He  calls  it  the  "day's  eye,"  or  the 
 
 "eye  of  day." 
 
 "That  well  by  reason  it  men  callen  may 
 The  daisie,  or  else  the  'eye  ol"  day.'  " 
 
 And  it  cannot  be  denied  that,  in  a  poetic  way,  we 
 gain  much  by  this  designation. 
 
 Leaving  flowers  for  more  practical  affairs,  it  will 
 not  be  questioned  that  the  German  who  first  conceived 
 the  glove  to  be  a  shoe  for  the  hand,  a  hand-schuh,  while 
 he  who  imagined  a  thimble  to  be  a  hat  for  the  finger,  a 
 jingcr-hut,  might,  in  point  of  imagination,  have  put  to 
 the  blush  many  an  aspiring  poet.  With  regard  to  the 
 hand-schuh,  while  it  may  not  be  difficult  to  recognize 
 the  fitness  of  the  term,  all  difficulty  of  every  character 
 will  instantly  vanish  when  we  recognize  that  the 
 authorities  tell  us  that  the  first  gloves  worn  in  the  north 
 of  Europe  were  simply  bags,  into  which  the  hands 
 were  thrust  for  the  purpose  of  warmth.  The  addition 
 of  a  thumb  in  the  present  mitten  fashion  was  regarded 
 as  a  wonderful  innovation,  while  the  separate  compart- 
 ments for  the  fingers  were  of  comparatively  modern  in- 
 vention. Thus  the  old  bag-glove  bore  a  more  decided 
 resemblance  to  the  covering  for  the  foot  than  might  at 
 first  be  supposed. 
 
 With  regard  to  the  morality  of  words,  Trench  is 
 essentially  a  pessimist,  and  consequently  takes  the  worst, 
 view  of  humanity,  as  illustrated  by  language,  that  he 
 can  persuade  his  conscience  to  allow.  While,  however, 
 the  reader  may  not  be  disposed  to  accept  in  full  the  con- 
 clusions of  Trench,  it  cannot  be  denied  that,  to  no  in- 
 considerable extent,  man  has  degraded  his  language 
 with  himself,  or,  to  speak  more  properly,  certain  classes, 
 or  conditions  of  men  have  so  uniformly  demonstrated 
 their    low  standard  ol  morality,    that  the    name  of  the 
 
214  UNIVERSITY   OP   MISSOURI. 
 
 class  has  long  been  applied  to  designate  individuals  who, 
 in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  possessed  the  predominant 
 quality  of  the  class.  Thus,  a  "knave"  was  once  a  boy; 
 then  a  boy-servant,  then  a  scoundrel,  and  a  curious  com- 
 mentary on  the  universality  of  roguery  among  boy-ser- 
 vants might  be  written  in  tracing  the  gradual  change  in 
 the  history  of  this  well-known  word.  A  "boor"  was 
 once  a  farmer,  and  not  an  ill-mannered  man;  a  "villain" 
 once  a  peasant,  and  not  a  cut-throat;  a  "varlet"  was  a 
 servant,  and  not  a  rascal;  a  "time-server"  was  an  honor- 
 able man,  and  not  a  disgusting  truckler;  "tinsel"  was 
 formerly  made  of  pure  gold;  "voluble"  was  a  compli- 
 mentary expression,  and  not  a  term  of  reproach;  "preju- 
 dice" was  a  previously-formed  opinion,  whether  good  or 
 bad;  a  "black-guard"  was  simply  a  scullion;  an  "idiot" 
 was  not  a  natural  fool,  but,  as  Jeremy  Taylor  uses  the 
 word,  a  private  citizen  as  opposed  to  an  office-holder. 
 The  word  "heathen,"  now  used  to  designate  a  worshiper 
 of  idols,  shows  a  curious  bit  of  linguistic  history.  It 
 was  formerly  applied  solely  to  the  dwellers  on  the  Ger- 
 man heaths,  and  a^  these  were  uncultured  people,  and 
 among  the  last  to  adopt  the  doctrines  and  practice  of 
 Christianity,  the  people  of  the  latter  creed  came  little 
 by  little  to  consider  the  name  of  a  heath-dweller  as 
 synonjmious  with  that  of  an  unbeliever,  and  to  lose  the 
 original  application  of  the  word  required  then  but  little 
 time.  In  an  invaluable  note  at  the  end  of  the  twenty- 
 first  chapter  of  his  "Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman 
 Empire,"  Gibbon  gives  a  somewhat  analogous  case  with 
 regard  to  the  word  "Pagan."  Pagus  originally  meant 
 a  "fountain,"  and  by  easy  stages  the  word  and  its  suc- 
 cessors came  to  designate  the  village  built  near  or  around 
 a  fountain,  next  any  village,  and  finally  the  inhabitants. 
 The  fountains  were  supposed   to  be   under  the  special 
 
L.EOTUBE   OF   PROF.   MOANAI/LY.  215 
 
 care  of  some  goddess  or  nymph,  and  the  people  of  the 
 neighborhood  were,  as  a  rule,  so  tenacious  of  their  local 
 worship,  and  so  reluctant  to  adopt  Christianity,  that  the 
 word  Pagani,  or  "•villagers,"  passed  through  all  the 
 changes  already  detailed  in  the  case  of  the  word 
 "heathen."  Gibhon  says  the  first  official  use  of  the  word 
 in  the  sense  of  "unbeliever,"  is  found  in  an  edict  of  Val- 
 entinian,  in  the  year  A.  D.  365,  and  from  that  time  the 
 secondary  signification  of  the  word  has  been  most 
 common. 
 
 It  will  hardly  do  to  pass  unnoticed  a  class  of  words 
 and  expressions  formerly  of  serious  meaning,  but  which, 
 by  some  change  of  circumstances  or  ideas,  have  come  to 
 be  regarded  as  having  something  of  the  ridiculous  about 
 them,  and  consequently  are  no  longer  used,  save  with  a 
 droll  signification.  The  word  "pate"  once  stood  in  a 
 serious  sense  for  "head,"  and  is  so  used  in  the  seventh 
 Psalm;  while  Wycliffe,  in  his  translation  of  the  Bible, 
 uses  "sconce,"  "nowl,"  and' "noddle,"  in  the  same  way. 
 "To  punch,"  "to  thump,"  "to  wag,"  and  "to  buzz,"  now 
 considered  verbal  tramps,  out  at  elbows  and  down  at 
 heel,  were  formerly  in  good  standing  in  religious  society, 
 and  had  nothing  of  the  ridiculous  about  them.  WyclifFe 
 translated  Acts  XIV,  14:  "Paul  and  Barnabas  rent 
 their  clothes  and  skipped  out  among  the  people;"  while 
 Miles  Coverdale  rendered  a  passage  in  Canticles:  "My 
 beloved  cometh  hopping  upon  the  mountain;"  and  in 
 another  place,  assured  us  that  "the  Lord  trounced  Sisera 
 and  all  his  host."  Tyndale  spoke  of  a  "sight  of  angels;" 
 while  the  phrases,  "through  thick  and  thin,"  from  Spen- 
 ser, "cheek  by  jowl,"  from  Sylvester,  and  "hand  over 
 head,'!. from  Bacon,  have  served  their  time  on  the  seri- 
 ous stage  and  now  do  duty  as  clowns.  "In  doleful 
 dumps,"  "in  the  wrong  box,"  "gone  to  pot,"  and  many 
 
216  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 other  phrases  had  formerly  nothing  of  the  ludicrous 
 about  them ;  and,  with  the  examples  already  cited,  are 
 illustrations  of  the  melancholy  fact  that  the  disposition 
 of  the  average  man  is  to  belittle  and  drag  down  to  his 
 own  level  everything  above  him.  Were  heroes  the 
 rule,  this  would  not  be  so;  but  unfortunately,  in  this 
 work-a-day  world,  as  Shakespeare  calls  it,  the  unheroic 
 prevails  to  an  extent  that  prevents  a  full  recognition  of 
 the  heroism  that  really  exists. 
 
 The  next  curiosity  worthy  of  note,  is  the  remarka- 
 ble slowness  with  which,  under  ordinary  circumstances, 
 changes  in  language  are  effected.  This  is  a  point  noticed 
 by  all  the  authorities.  It  matters  not  whether  the 
 change  be  in  regard  to  the  orthography,  the  pronuncia- 
 tion, or  the  grammatical  forms  of  the  language,  the 
 principle  is  the  same,  and  the  statement  holds  good.  It 
 is  usually  extremely  difficult  to  eonvince  any  one  that 
 such  changes  are  going  on  during  his  own  lifetime,  but 
 there  is  no  sort  of  doubt  of  the  fact.  Ten  lifetimes  will 
 more  than  cover  the  five  hundred  years  between  us  and 
 Chaucer,  and  what  a  remarkable  difference  between  the 
 English  of  his  day  and  that  of  our  own.  Twenty  life- 
 times will  take  us  back  to  Alfred  the  Great,  and  yet  his 
 language  bore  a  closer  resemblance  to  German  than  to 
 English,  and  all  the  change  necessary  to  bring  it  to  its 
 present  condition  must  have  been  effected  during  those 
 lifetimes.  The  truth  is,  nothing  is  slower,  more  insidi- 
 ous, or  less  noticed  in  its  action,  than  the  change  that  is 
 constantly  going  on  in  a  language.  One  generation  of 
 men  passes  away;  another  generation  comes,  and  each 
 man,  with  all  the  earnestness  of  conviction,  believes  that 
 he  speaks  the  language  of  his  ancestors;  when,  in  fact, 
 he  does  nothing  of  the  kind.  He  does  not  speak,  even, 
 the  language  of  his  youth,  much  less  that  of  his  father's 
 
J.BfJTURK    OF   PROF.  MCANALLY.  217 
 
 youth;  for  in  his  own  mouth,  and  without  his  knowl- 
 edge, the  change  is  being  effected.  The  pronunciation 
 of  words,  for  instance,  is  constantly  but  slowly  changed. 
 No  one  now  says  greet  for  great,  yet  a  hundred  years 
 ago  it  was  always  so  pronounced;  and  Pope  invariably 
 rhymes  it  with  such  words  as  replete,  complete,  and 
 their  like.  Old  men  sometimes  say  obleeged,  and  young 
 men  smile  at  the  expression;  but  in  the  beginning  of 
 this  century  it  was  always  so  pronounced;  while  key 
 was  kay,  tea  was  tay,  Rome  was  Room,  and  the  rhym- 
 ing dictionaries  classed  "bough,"  "chough,"  "plough," 
 •'trough,1'  nnd  other  words  of  the  "ough"  formation  to- 
 gether as  allowable  rhymes.  Gold  was  gould,  and 
 Swift  is  reported  to  have  once  enquired:  "If  I  may  be 
 so  bonld,  I  should  like  to  be  toidd  why  you  do  call  it 
 gouldf  These  are  but  a  few  of  the  numerous  ex- 
 amples that  might  be  cited;  any  one  with  a  little  indus- 
 try could  easily  collect  instances  by  the  score. 
 
 With  these  changes  in  pronunciation  have  come 
 changes  in  the  grammatical  form  of  the  language, 
 though,  of  course,  the  latter  are  much  more  slow  to  run 
 their  course  than  the  variations  in  spelling  and  pronun- 
 ciation. The  laws  that  govern  the  changes  mentioned 
 are,  for  the  most  part,  past  our  finding  out.  That  there 
 are  laws,  may  be  set  down  as  a  self-evident  fact,  and 
 that  they  will  be  discovered  as  soon  as  the  comparative 
 study  of  language  has  reached  a  point  where  a  sufficient 
 number  of  illustrations  have  been  collected  to  admit  of 
 the  deduction  of  general  rules,  may  also  be  considered 
 beyond  all  question;  but  as  yet,  most  that  has  been  said 
 on  the  subject  amounts  to  little  more  than  speculation. 
 A  hint  that  may  hereafter  prove  ot  value  in  this  con- 
 nection is  this:  The  general  tendency  of  language  is 
 toward   abbreviation;  and,  consequently,  all  superfluous 
 
218  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 letters,  syllables,  terminations  of  nouns,  adjectives  and 
 verbs,  together  with  all  unnecessary  forms  of  expres- 
 sion, are  being  gradually  dropped.  This  is  especially  to 
 be  observed  in  the  case  of  silent  letters,  which,  in  not  a 
 few  instances  within  the  recollection  of  living|men,  have 
 disappeared  from  the  most  common  words  of  the  lan- 
 guage. Home  Tooke  expresses  the  idea  very  happily 
 by  saying,  "Letters,  like  soldiers,  are  apt  to  fall  off  and 
 desert  in  a  long  march,"  and  the  most  extensive  research 
 has  but  served  to  confirm  the  truth  of  the  statement. 
 The  process  of  change  in  the  other  particulars  mention- 
 ed is  very  slow,  requiring  ages  for  its  consummation, 
 and  in  order  to  ascertain  the  full  extent  of  these  changes, 
 the  language  must  be  compared  at  periods  centuries 
 apart;  but  that  this  change  has  been  going  on  in  Eng- 
 lish ever  since  the  time  of  Chaucer  is  easily  demon- 
 strated. Take  for  instance,  the  substantive-adjectives  of 
 our  language,  and  today  comparatively  few  of  them 
 end  in  <?»,  while  formerly  this  was  the  regular  adjective 
 ending:  "Steelen,"  "floweren,"  "rocken,"  "rosen," 
 "stonen,"  and  hundreds  of  others  may  be  cited  as  ex- 
 amples. The  tendency  to  abbreviation  is  now  leading 
 to  the  substitution  of  "gold"  for  "golden,"  "silver"  for 
 "silvern,"  "brass"  for  "brazen,"  and  so  on,  ad  libitum. 
 En  used  to  be  the  common  ending  for  verbs,  and  ia 
 "lengthen."  "strengthen,"  "broaden,"  "deepen,"  and  a 
 few  more,  the  termination  is  still  retained,  but  those 
 which  have  lost  the  en  are  thousands,  while  those  which 
 have  retained  it  are  but  tens.  The  plural  of  nouns  was 
 also  once  formed  in  en,  but  at  present  "oxen,"  "chicken," 
 "kine,"  (kien,)  "brethren"  and  "children"  almost  ex- 
 haust the  list.  The  writers  on  the  subject  predict,  with 
 some  apparent  confidence,  that  the  apostrophe  and  letter 
 j,  which  indicate  the  possessive  case,  must  go  next;  and 
 
LECTURE  OF    PROF.    MCANALIjY. 
 
 319 
 
 urge,  in  proof,  that  to  denote  possession,  the  objective 
 construction  with  of  is  becoming  much  more  frequent, 
 and  its  additional  clearness  gives  it  an  advantage  not  to 
 be  despised. 
 
 Illustrations  of  the  fact  that  linguistic  changes  of 
 some  consequence  have  occasionally  taken  place  in  com- 
 paratively brief  periods  of  time  are  furnished  by  several 
 historical  circumstances  of  undoubted  authenticity.  The 
 most  curious  of  these  is  probably  the  well-known  story 
 of  the  "Refugee  French."  After  the  revocation  of  the 
 Edict  of  Nantes  hy  Louis  XIV,  in  16S5,  large  numbers 
 of  Huguenots  fled  from  their  native  country,  and  taking 
 refuge  in  the  cities  of  Holland  and  England  formed 
 colonies,  the  members  of  which  associated  almost  alto- 
 gether with  each  other,  and  by  means  of  agents  carried 
 on  the  purchase  of  material  they  needed  and  the  sale  of 
 the  products  they  manufactured  in  their  special  lines  of 
 trade.  They  thus,  in  many  cases,  almost  isolated  them- 
 selves from  their  surroundings,  and  persisted  in  speaking 
 the  French  language.  This  slate  of  things  continued 
 for  two  or  three  generations,  when  it  was  discovered 
 that  while  the  French  language  at  home  had  undergone 
 material  change,  the  French  of  these  refugees  remained 
 in  statu  quo,  with  the  exception  of  an  occasional  and  ac- 
 cidental foreign  word.  Its  growth  had  ceased,  while 
 the  growth  of  the  language  at  home  had  continued, 
 and  when  some  of  these  refugee  people  went  home  a 
 century  later,  their  pronunciation  and  grammatical  con- 
 structions were  as  antiquated  as  would  be  for  us  the 
 English  of  a  hundred  years  ago.  Another  fair  illustra- 
 tion is  furnished  by  the  history  of  a  party  of  Germans 
 from  a  minor  state  of  the  confederation,  who  settled  in 
 a  mountain  valley  of  Pennsylvania  before  the  American 
 Revolution,  and  during  that  war   and   the  wars  of  the 
 
230  UNIVERSITY    OK   MISSOURI. 
 
 French  Directory  remained  without  intercourse  with 
 their  German  friends  in  Europe.  So  remarkable  was 
 the  result  of  this  comparatively  brief  isolation  that, 
 when  Prince  Bernhard  of  Saxe-Weimer,  while  on  a 
 tour  through  this  country  about  1825,  visited  the  settle- 
 ment, though  he  found  German  still  spoken,  the  pro- 
 nunciation and  dialect  were  of  a  previous  age.  It  was 
 German,  hut  the  German  of  his  fathers  that  had  remain- 
 ed unchanged  which  was  the  language  of  these  settlers- 
 
 A  remarkable  instance  of  the  slowness  with  which 
 a  language  undergoes  any  changes,  save  those  which 
 originate  in  its  own  vitality,  is  furnished  by  the  Polish. 
 Ever  since  the  partition  of  Poland  by  Russia,  Prussia 
 and  Austria,  in  1764,  the  attempt  to  suppress  the  lan- 
 guage* of  the  unfortunate  Poles  has  been  going  on  in 
 that  portion  of  the  country  which  fell  to  the  lot  of  Rus- 
 sia, and,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  every  means  has  been 
 resorted  to  by  the  barbarous  conquerors  of  the  unhappy 
 nation,  Polish  is  still  spoken,  and  allowing  a  small  mar- 
 gin for  natural  change,  with  substantially  the  same  ac- 
 cent, pronunciation  and  grammatical  forms,  as  when 
 Warsaw  still  held  out  against  the  armies  of  the  three 
 robber  nations. 
 
 We  need  not,  how  ever,  go  as  far  as  Poland  to  find 
 an  example  of  the  reluctance  of  a  language  to  yield  to 
 foreign  pressure.  The  history  of  our  own  tongue  fur- 
 nishes a  parallel  case.  The  long  reign  of  Edward  the 
 Confessor,  from  1042  to  1065,  by  its  introduction  of 
 French  manners  and  customs,  and  Norman  influences 
 generally,  prepared  the  way  for  the  Norman  conquest; 
 but  when  William  came  the  English  people  were, by  no 
 means,  ready  for  the  consequences  of  his  accession.  The 
 Seven  Years'  war  which  followed  the  apparent  calm, 
 after  the  great  battle  of  Hastings   had   been   fought  and 
 
LECTURE   OF    PROF.  MCANALLY.  2?1 
 
 lost,  completely  broke  down  the  spirit  of  the  Anglo- 
 Saxons.  Their  king  had  been  killed,  their  noblemen 
 were  either  murdered,  imprisoned,  or  banished;  their 
 priests  and  bishops  were  forced  to  retire  from  their  liv- 
 ings and  sees,  and  either  take  refuge  in  the  obscurity  of 
 private  life,  or  fly  to  the  continent.  The  Norman- 
 French  became  the  language  of  the  court,  of  the  camp, 
 of  the  cloister,  of  the  bar,  of  the  schools,  of  the  count- 
 ing rooms,  of  the  shops.  When  an  aspiring,  ambitious 
 young  man  sought  promotion  in  any  walk  of  life,  his 
 first  step  was  to  learn  French.  French  priests  by  the 
 hunched  were  brought  over  from  the  continent,  and 
 preaching  in  Anglo-Saxon  was  forbidden.  Anglo- 
 Saxon  could  not  be  taught  in  the  schools,  for  the  foreign 
 masters,  usually  ecclesiastics,  knew  nothing  of  it,  and 
 children  were  required  to  translate  their  Latin  into 
 French,  regardless  of  their  mother  tongue.  All  busi- 
 ness transactions  were  carried  on  in  French,  and  if  a 
 man  desired  to  avoid  being  cheated  at  every  turn,  his 
 sole  protection  was  a  familiarity  with  the  language  of 
 the  merchants.  In  spite,  however,  of  the  rigid  system 
 of  persistent  tyranny,  which  for  three  hundred  years 
 sought  to  force  an  alien  language  upon  an  entire  people, 
 the  Anglo-Saxon  tongue  was  equal  to  the  emergency, 
 and  doggedly  held  its  own.  It  suffered  terribly,  and 
 came  out  of  the  three-century  contest  so  changed  that  it 
 could  hardly  be  recognized  as  the  same  language  that 
 had  entered  the  battle,  but  for  all  that,  it  survived,  and  in 
 the  end  overcame  all  opposition.  The  whole  case  is 
 clearly  stated  by  Professor  Earle,  late  professor  of  An- 
 glo-Saxon in  the  University  of  Oxford.  "Great  and 
 speedy,"  he  says,  "must  have  been  the  effect  of  the  Nor- 
 man conquest  in  ruining  the  ancient  grammar.  The 
 leading  men  in  the  state,  having  no  interest  in   the  ver- 
 
2'J2  UNIVERSITY    OK   MISSOUBJ. 
 
 nacular,  its  cultivation  fell  immediately  into  neglect. 
 The  chief  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  clergy  deposed  or  re- 
 moved, who  should  now  keep  up  that  supply  of  Anglo- 
 Saxon  religious  literature,  of  the  copiousness  of  which 
 we  may  judge  even  in  our  day  by  the  considerable  re- 
 mains that  have  outlived  hostility  and  neglect?  Now 
 that  the  Saxon  land  owners  were  dispossessed,  who 
 should  patronize  the  Saxon  bard,  or  welcome  the  man  of 
 song  in  the  halls  of  mirth?  The  shock  of  the  conquest 
 gave  a  death-blow  to  Saxon  literature.  The  English 
 language  continued  to  be  spoken  by  the  masses  who 
 could  speak  no  other,  and  here  and  there  a  secluded  stu- 
 dent wrote  in  it;  but  its  honors  and  emoluments  were 
 gone,  and  a  gloomy  period  of  depression  lay  before  the 
 Saxon  language  as  before  the  Saxon  people.  The  in- 
 flection system  could  not  live  through  this  trying  period. 
 Just  as  we  accumulate  superfluities  about  us  in  prosperi- 
 ty, but  in  adversity  get  rid  of  them  as  incumbrances, 
 and  we  like  to  travel  light  when  we  have  our  own  legs 
 to  carry  us,  just  so  it  happened  to  the  English  language. 
 All  the  sounding  terminations  that  made  so  handsome  a 
 figure  in  Saxon  courts,  superfluous  as  bells  on  idle 
 horses,  were  laid  aside  when  the  nation  had  lost  its  own 
 political  life  and  its  pride  of  nationality,  and  had  received  ' 
 leaders  and  teachers  who  spoke  a  strange  tongue." 
 
 Before  leaving  this  branch  of  the  subject,  it  is  note- 
 worthv  that  one  of  the  most  potent  agencies  in  the  in- 
 jury of  Anglo-Saxon  was  the  system  of  abbreviation 
 adopted  by  the  Normans  when  they  were  forced  to  use 
 it,  in  their  intercourse  with  their  new  serfs.  The  niceties 
 of  the  language  were  utterly  disregarded,  and  every- 
 thing superfluous  in  speech  and  expression  was  ruthless- 
 ly cut  away.  The  grammar  suffered,  as  also  did  the 
 vocabulary,  so    much   so   that  of  some  classes  of  words 
 
LiECTDBB   OK    PKOK.    MCANAIJA'.  228 
 
 not  a  single  representative  survives.  In  regard  to  this 
 general  subject,  the  authorities  have  always  been  divided 
 as  to  the  question  whether  the  English  language  gained 
 or  lost  by  the  admixture  of  Norman.  When  doctors 
 disagree  with  as  much  vim  as  in  this  case,  the  expression 
 of  an  opinion  is  a  delicate  matter,  but  a  careful  examina- 
 tion of  the  evidence  on  both  sides  will  probably-  satisfy 
 an  unprejudiced  mind,  that  the  loss  is  fully  balanced  by 
 the  gain.  Inflections  were  done  away  with,  but  philolo- 
 gists are  gradually  coming  to  the  conclusion  that  this 
 loss  is  for  the  better,  while  the  vast  influx  of  new  words 
 and  forms  of  expression  has  certainly  rendered  the  lan- 
 guage a  service  which  cannot  be  too  highly  estimated. 
 
 The  next  point  of  curious  interest  with  regard  to 
 language,  is  the  manner  in  which  linguistic  changes  of 
 more  gradual  character  than  those  already  mentioned 
 are  effected.  There  appears  to  be  with  words,  as  with 
 animals,  a  constant  process  of  what  Darwin  would  call 
 "natm-al  selection,"  going  on,  by  which  the  weaker  are 
 driven  to  the  wall  and  die,  and  the  stronger  part  the 
 property  of  their  late  companions  among  themselves, 
 and  thus  still  more  augment  their  strength.  The  laws 
 which  govern  changes  of  this  kind  are  inscrutible,  but 
 the  changes,  nevertheless,  take  place,  and  speak  for 
 themselves.  With  regard  to  losses  of  this  kind,  Trench 
 is  very  explicit.  He  says:  "We  hardly  realize  to  our- 
 selves the  immense  losses  which  we  have  suffered,  till 
 we  take  the  extinct  words  of  some  single  formation,  and 
 seek  to  make  as  complete  a  list  of  these  as  possible. 
 Then,  indeed,  we  perceive  that  they  are  thick  as  leaves 
 in  Vallambrosa."  This  point  he  proceeds  to  illustrate 
 by  giving  a  long  list  of  words  ending  in  full  which 
 have  at  different  times  been  used  by  the  best  English 
 writers  and  speakers,  but  are  now  pronounced  obsolete. 
 
*224  UNIVKRS1TY    OP    MISSOURI. 
 
 It  is,  of  course,  out  of  the  question  to  make  extended 
 reference  to  a  list  of  this  kind,  or  to  extract  from  it;  but 
 the  most  casual  examination  of  the  work  of  Trench  in 
 this  department,  will  satisfy  any  one  of  the  immense  ap- 
 parent loss  that  the  English  has,  in  this  respect,  sus- 
 tained. The  loss  may  be  only  apparent,  buj  it  is  none 
 the  less  conspicuous.  In  regard  to  this  "natural  selec- 
 tion" of  words,  Dvvight,  in  his  "Modern  Philology," 
 says:  "Great,  silent,  yet  determinative  laws  of  criti- 
 cism, and  so,  of  general  acceptance  or  condemnation, 
 are  ever  at  work  upon  words,  deciding  their  position 
 among  mankind  at  large,  as  if  before  a  court  without 
 any  appeal.  Their  action  is  certain,  though  indefinable 
 to  our  vision,  like  the  seemingly  blind  laws  of  the 
 weather;  which  yet'  however  multiplied  in  their  sources 
 or  subtle  in  their  action,  rule  infallably,  not  only  the 
 questions  of  human  labor  and  of  human  harvests,  but 
 also,  to  a  great  extent,  those  of  human  health,  power 
 and  enjoyment.'1 
 
 Thus  does  D  wight  look  at  the  matter;  but  it  may 
 be  observed  that  since  he  wrote,  the  laws  of  the  weather 
 have,  one  by  one,  been  slowly  yet  surely  deduced  from 
 millions  of  observations  made  in  every  part  of  the  world 
 by  thousands  of  skilled  scientific  men.  Thus,  in  time, 
 we  may  expect  that  the  laws  in  obedience  to  which  lan- 
 guage changes,  shall  be  discovered  and  laid  down  with 
 as  much  accuracy.  Language  does  not  change  by 
 chance  or  haphazard.  No  matter  how  far-caprice  may 
 influence  the  actions  of  an  individual,  it  cannot  control 
 the  movements  of  a  community  or  nation  in  matters  in- 
 volving the  habits  of  a  lifetime.  Occasionally  the  change 
 may  be  easily  accounted  for,  as  in  the  cases  already 
 given;  at  other  times  the  reason  lies  beyond  our  reach, 
 because  we  have  not  yet  sufficient  data  to  justify   the  de- 
 
L.ECTURB    OF   PROF.  MCANAtibY.  225 
 
 duction  of  any  principle.    Once  in  a  while  the  extinction 
 of  an  art,  science,  or  amusement,  has  caused  the  death  of 
 most  or  all  the  words  and  terms  connected  with  it.    The 
 practice  of  bear-baiting,   as  a  popular  sport,   has  long 
 since  gone  out  of  fashion,  and,  as  a  consequence,  scores 
 of  terms  used  by  the  bear-fighters  have  dropped  from 
 the  language  and  disappeared.     Hawking,  as   an  amuse- 
 ment, was  abandoned  long  ago,  and  a  book  of  "Hawking 
 Instructions,"  or  rules  for  taming  and  controlling  falcons 
 is  consequently  untranslatable;  so  many  of  the  expres- 
 sions have  passed  entirely  from  use  that  no  signification 
 whatever  can  be  attached  to  them.     These  are  but  two 
 out   of   many    illustrations    that    might  be    cited.     The 
 common-sense  view  of  the  whole  matter  seems  to  be, 
 that  when  men  do  not  need  a  word  they  cease  to  use  it, 
 and  the  word  dies.     This  is  illustrated  in  the  cases  just 
 given.     When  hawking   no   longer   existed   as  a  sport, 
 men  had  no  need  of  designating  by  words  things  which 
 had  no   existence,  and  therefore  the  names  themselves 
 became  extinct  and  passed   from  the  vocabulary  of  the 
 language.     What  proportion  of  words   first   used  in  a 
 technical,  and  afterwards  in  a  more  general  or  secondary 
 sense,  survived  the  death  of  their  accompanying  objects, 
 we  have,  of  course,  no  means  of  knowing,  but  the  num- 
 ber must  be  by  no  means  small.     A.  single  illustration 
 may  suffice.     There  is,  probably,  no  belief  so   utterly 
 dead  as  that  in  the  so-called  science  of  astrology;  but 
 "mercurial,"   and  "jovial,"  and   "saturine,"  and  "moon- 
 struck," still  offer  themselves  for  our  use  in  describing 
 human   character,    although   their   primary  signification 
 has  been  entirely  lost;  while  "influence,"  and  "disaster," 
 "ill-starred,"  and  "ascendancy,"  are  but  a  few  out  of  the 
 many  that  survive  the  would-be  science  they  once  helped 
 to  explain.     Why   whole  classes  of  adjectives,  such  as 
 
226  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 those  mfuly  already  mentioned,  and  others  in  some,  why 
 duplicate  words  and  entire  families  of  compounds  should 
 yield  to  the  law  of  nature  and  die,  when  there  appears 
 no  reason  that  they  should  not  last  as  long  as  their 
 neighbors,  is  not  yet  determined;  but  certain  it  is,  that 
 in  several  of  these  quarters  the  English  language  wast 
 formerly  rich,  and  is  now  comparatively  poor.  "Might- 
 lul"  is  as  expressive  as  word  as  "mighty;"  "v/ordful,"  as 
 "wordy;"  "senseful,"  as  "sensible;"  yet  in  each  case  the 
 one  has  been  taken,  the  other  left,  and  the  tendency  con- 
 stantly is  to  increase  the  use,  even  of  such  words  as 
 "wrathy,"  in  preference  to  the  older — "wrathful."  Men 
 speak  now  of  a  "miser,"  but,  according  to  Trench,  he 
 used  also  to  be  called  a  "gripe,"  a  "huddle,"  a  "smudge," 
 a  "clinch,"  a  "micher,"  a  "pinchpenny,"  a  "pennyfather," 
 a  "nipcheese,"  a  "nipscreed,"  a  "nipfarthing,"  a  "clutch- 
 fast,"  and  a  "kumbix,"  besides  other  terms  not  sulTerable 
 by  ears  polite.  The  cause  of  the  extinction  of  these 
 names  is  certainly  not  to  be  found  in  any  diminution  of 
 the  race  of  misers,  and  though  we  at  present  may  be  at 
 a  loss  in  what  direction  to  look  for  a  reason,  we  may 
 feel  very  certain  that  there  is  one,  and  that  it  will  be 
 discovered. 
 
 In  very  marked  contrast  to  this  diminution  in  the 
 number  of  words  of  certain  classes  in  the  English  lan- 
 guage, is  the  extraordinary  power  that  English  has 
 manifested  upon  occasion  of  taking  in  words  at  whole- 
 sale. Half  a  dozen  times  in  the  history  of  our  language 
 it  has  shown  the  appetite  of  an  ostrich,  and  to  its  credit 
 be  it  said,  it  has  succeeded  in  digesting  everything  it  has 
 managed  to  swallow.  The  century  beginning  with  the 
 accession  of  Elizabeth,  in  1559,  may  be  mentioned  as 
 one  period  of  remarkable  growth.  The  spirit jof  enter- 
 prise that  then  characterized  the   English    nation  as  a 
 
LECTURE   OB'    PROF.  MCANALLY.  227 
 
 whole,  and  the  sudden  rise  of  the  British  naval  power, 
 together  with  the  acknowledged  pre  eminence  of  the 
 English  fighting  qualities,  as  illustrated  in  the  defeat  of 
 the  Armada  in  15SS,  combined  to  put  England  to  the 
 front  of  European  nations,  and  the  discovery  of  Ameri- 
 ca and  consequent  explorations,  furnished  employment 
 for  the  boldest  spirits.  The  labors  of  the  hardy  Eng- 
 lishmen of  that  day,  whose  names  are  to  be  found  in 
 every  school  history,  introduced  a  vast  number  of  new 
 words  into  the  language,  by  the  introduction  of  new  ob- 
 jects and  ideas  into  the  English  life,  and  this  increase 
 v  as  assisted  by  the  English  renaissance,  which  did  as 
 much  from  another  point  of  view  as  did  the  foreign  ex- 
 plorations and  discoveries.  In  short,  to  conclude  this 
 branch  of  the  subject,  it  may  be  affirmed  that  the  intro- 
 duction of  an  art  or  science,  the  establishment  of  a  new 
 manufacture,  the  inauguration  of  a  novel  industry,  the 
 publication  of  a  new  invention,  and  even  a  new  way  of 
 doing  an  old  thing,  are  sure  to  be  attended  by  either  the 
 invention  or  introduction  of  new  words.  The  terminol- 
 ogy of  every  science  is  peculiar  to  itself,  and  in  the  fact 
 that  so  many  of  the  most  common  articles  of  to-day  are 
 things  of  recent  discovery  or  invention,  may,  perhaps, 
 be  found  an  explanation  of  the  remarkable  growth  of 
 our  language  during  the  last  hundred  years.  The  use 
 of  labor-saving  machines,  the  invention  of  the  steam- 
 engine,  the  application  of  electricity  to  practical  use,  and 
 a  hundred  other  adaptations  of  the  forces  of  nature  to 
 the  wants  of  men,  have  each  called  into  being  a  host  of 
 words  and  expressions  suitably  describing  the  novelties 
 thus  presented  to  the  human  mind.  As  a  last  hint  in 
 this  direction,  it  may  be  observed  that  on  some  occasions 
 words  are  literally  forced  upon  the  people,  and  are  used, 
 not  because  they  are  the  best  words,  but  by  dint  of  their 
 
228  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 constant  repetition.  An  example  of  this  is  seen  in  cer- 
 tain words  now  creeping  into  public  favor,  such  as 
 "suicided,"  "burglarized,"  and  the  like.  The  telegraph 
 companies,  by  charging  by  the  word  for  transmission, 
 have  caused  such  abreviations  as  these  in  place  of  the 
 usual  phrases:  "Committed  suicide,"  or  "committed 
 burglary."  The  only  conceivable  excuse  for  these  and 
 such  as  these,  is  found  in  the  fact  that  they  cost  just  half 
 as  much  as  their  synonyms,  but  being  just  as  expressive, 
 there  is  little  doubt  that  they  will  ultimately  be  admitted 
 into  the  language  family  as  legitimate  children.  The 
 men  of  learning  may  protest  in  the  future,  as  they  have 
 protested  in  the  past;  the  scholars  may  denounce,  the 
 universities  may  condemn,  and  the  lexicographers  may 
 omit,  but  the  people  will  do  as  they  have  done,  and  use 
 such  words  as  express  their  ideas  with  most  brevity  and 
 accuracy.  In  the  end,  such  words,  no  matter  how  slangy 
 they  may  at  first  be  deemed,  will  be  received  and  used 
 by  everybody.  There  was  a  long  controversy  over  the 
 word  its,  the  possessive  of  the  neuter  pronoun,  and  for 
 a  great  while  the  best  writers  and  speakers  avoided  its 
 use.  Bacon  and  Spencer  never  used  it,  and  it  occurs  very 
 seldom  in  Milton,  Shakespeare,  and  the  King  James 
 translation  of  our  English  Bible,  published  in  1611;  but 
 though  the  first  recorded  use  of  the  word  was  by  Florio 
 in  1598,  in  much  less  than  a  century  writers  were  find- 
 ing fault  with  their  opponents  for  employing  "his"  or 
 "her"  in  place  of  "its."  The  contest  had,  therefore, 
 been  previously  decided  in  favor  of  "its,"  a  result  certain 
 to  happen  in  every  case  when  a  new  word  supplies  a 
 real  want  in  a  language.  In  truth,  as  a  distinguished 
 writer  on  this  subject  has  already  said,  the  English  lan- 
 guage is  like  the  English  institutions,  "Just  as  the  char- 
 acter   of  our    governmental    regulations   is   such   that 
 
IjEctukk  of  prof,  mcanaluy.  229 
 
 strangers  and  refugees  from  every  land  under  heaven 
 can  come  and  make  their  home  with  us,  and  forget  that 
 they  are  strangers,  so  foreign  words,  singly  or  in  crowds, 
 may  come  and  be  received,  and  become  acclimated,  and 
 the  next  generation  will  be  utterly  oblivious  of  the  fact 
 that  they  were  ever  other  than  orthodox  English." 
 
 There  is  another  branch  of  no  small  interest  to  the 
 curious,  and  well  deserving  careful  enquiry.  The  do- 
 main of  proper  names  is  so  extensive  and  so  suggestive 
 that  to  do  it  justice  would  require  volumes  rather  than 
 paragraphs.  It  may  be  stated  that,  as  a  rule,  aboriginal 
 proper  names  are  never  devoid  of  meaning,  though  a 
 change  of  circumstances  has  often  caused  the  meaning  to 
 be  lost.  Dr.  Isaac  Taylor  says:  "In  many  cases  the 
 original  import  of  local  names  has  faded  away,  or  has 
 become  disguised  in  the  lapse  of  ages;  nevertheless,  the 
 primeval  meaning  may  be  recoverable,  and  whenever 
 it  is  recovered,  we  have  gained  a  symbol  that  may 
 prove  itself  full-fraught  with  instruction,  for  it  may  in- 
 dicate emigrations,  immigrations,  the  commingling  of 
 races  by  war  and  conquest,  or  by  the  peaceful  processes 
 of  commerce;  the  name  of  a  district  or  town  may  speak 
 to  us  of  events  which  written  history  has  failed  to  com- 
 memorate. A  local  name  may  often  be  adduced  as  evi- 
 dence determinative  of  controversies  that  otherwise 
 could  never  be  brought  to  a  conclusion.  The  names  of 
 places  are  conservative  of  the  more  archaic  forms  of  a 
 living  language,  and  they  often  embalm  for  us  the  guise 
 and  fashion  of  speech  in  eras  the  most  remote.  These 
 topographical  words,  which  float  upon  the  parlance  of 
 successive  generations  of  men,  are  subject  in  their  course 
 to  less  phonetic  abrasion  than  the  other  elem>" 
 people's  speech.  What  has  been  afP'- 
 nist  as  to  the  flora  of  limited  d: 
 
230  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 little  abatement,  concerning  local  names — that  they  sur- 
 vive the  catastrophes  which  overthrow  empires,  and  that 
 they  outlive  devastations  which  are  fatal  to  everything 
 beside.  Invading  hosts  may  trample  down  and  extir- 
 pate whatever  grows  on  a  soil,  excepting  only  its  wild 
 flowers,  and  the  names  of  those  sites  where  man  has 
 found  a  home.  Seldom  is  a  people  utterly  exterminated; 
 for  the  proud  conqueror  leaves  the  poor  of  the  hind  to 
 till  the  globe  anew,  and  these  enslaved  outcasts,  though 
 they  may  hand  down  no  memory  of  the  splendid  deeds 
 of  the  nation's  heroes,  yet  retain  a  most  tenacious  recol- 
 lection of  the  names  of  the  hamlets  which  their  own 
 ignoble  progenitors  inhabited,  and  near  which  their 
 fathers  were  interred.'1 
 
 The  individual  who  endeavors  to  gain  an  idea  of 
 the  curious  facts  ascertainable  by  a  study  of  local  names, 
 cannot  do  better  than  follow  the  footsteps  of  Dr.  Isaac 
 Taylor,  whose  admirable  work  on  this  subject  has  never 
 been  surpassed,  either  in  extent  of  research  or  accuracy 
 of  detail.  With  regard  to  the  tenacity  with  which  local 
 names  are  retained,  he  says:  "There  are  many  nations 
 which  have  left  no  written  records,  and  whose  history 
 would  be  a  blank  volume,  were  it  not  that  in  the  places 
 where  they  have  sojourned  they  have  left  traces  of  their 
 migrations  sufficient  to  enable  us  to  reconstruct  the  main 
 outline  of  their  history.  The  hills,  the  valleys,  and  the 
 rivers  are,  in  fact,  the  onl}'  writing  tablets  on  which  un- 
 lettered nations  have  been  able  to  inscribe  their  annals, 
 and  the  great  advances  in  ethnological  knowledge  which 
 have  recently  taken  place  are  largely  due  to  the  deciph- 
 erment of  the  obscure  and  time-worn  records  thus  con- 
 
 ^1  in  local  names.  From  them  we  may  also  decipher 
 
 •""■  a  bearing  on  national  movements  and  the 
 
 'Nation.     With  regard,  for  exam- 
 
LECTURE   OF   PROF.   MCANALLY.  231 
 
 pie,  to  Saxon  England,  we  may,  from  local  names  draw 
 many  inferences  as  to  the  amount  of  cultivated  land,  the 
 state  of  agriculture,  the  progress  of  the  arts  of  construc- 
 tion, and  even  as  to  the  density  of  the  population  and  its 
 relative  distribution.  In  the  same  records  we  may  dis- 
 cover vestiges  of  local  franchises  and  privileges,  and 
 may  investigate  certain  social  differences  which  must 
 have  characterized  the  districts  settled  respectively  by 
 the  Saxons  and  the  Danes;  may  collect  relics  of  the 
 heathenism  of  our  fathers,  and  illustrate  the  process  by 
 which  it  was  gradually  effaced  through  the  efforts  of 
 Christian  teachers."  But  names  may  do  even  more  than 
 this.  In  another  place  Taylor  continues:  "Local  ap- 
 pellations may  either  give  aid  to  the  philologist,  when 
 the  aspect  of  country  remains  the  same,  or,  on  the  other 
 hand,  where  the  face  of  nature  has  undergone  extensive 
 changes;  where  there  were  forests  that  have  been 
 cleared,  marshes  that  have  been  drained,  coast  lines  that 
 have  been  advanced  seaward,  rivers  that  have  extended 
 their  deltas  or  formed  new  channels,  estuaries  that  have 
 been  converted  into  alluvial  soil,  lakes  that  have  been 
 silted  up,  islands  that  have  become  gentle  inland  slopes, 
 surrounded  by  fertile  corn  flats — in  all  such  cases  these 
 pertinacious  names  have  a  geological  significance;  they 
 come  into  use  as  a  record  of  a  class  of  events  as  to 
 which,  for  the  most  part,  written  history  is  silent.  In 
 this  manner  the  names  of  places  become  available  as  the 
 beacon-lights  of  geological  history.  In  truth,  there  are 
 instances  in  which  local  names,  conserved  in  places 
 where  little  or  nothing  else  that  is  human  has  endured, 
 may  be  adduced  as  evidence  of  vast  physical  mutations, 
 side  by  side  with  the  most  massive  physical  vouchers  of 
 the  changes  on  our  globe." 
 
 It  will  be  seen  from   the   foregoing  liberal  extracts 
 
232  UNIVERSITY   OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 that  the  study  of  local  names  is  capable  of  throwing 
 light  on  geography,  history  both  political,  civil  and  mil- 
 itary, archaeology,  ethnology,  philology  and  geology. 
 Illustrations  of  the  manner  in  which  the  study  of  each 
 is  assisted  by  a  consideration  of  the  proper  names  in- 
 volved, would  be  both  lengthy  and  tiresome,  but  a  gen- 
 eral glance  at  the  distribution  of  the  proper  names  of 
 various  nationalities,  as  illustrating  national  movements, 
 may  not  prove  altogether  unprofitable.  It  may  be  set 
 down  as  preliminary,  that  whenever  the  occupation  of  a 
 country  by  foreign  conquerors  was  slow  and  interrupted 
 by  long  intervals  of  peace,  during  which  intercourse 
 was  carried  on  between  the  two  warring  nations,  the  old 
 names  of  localities  were  preserved  in  much  larger  num- 
 bers, and  with  much  less  change  in  form,  than  when  the 
 conquest  was  rapid  and  attended  by  the  extermination  of 
 the  vanquished.  It  should  also  be  remembered  that 
 when  two  nations,  the  one  barbarous  and  the  other  more 
 or  less  civilized,  come  in  hostile  contact,  and  the  former 
 is  overrun,  the  enlightened  nation  is  likely  to  re-name 
 the  centres  of  population,  the  towns  and  cities  of  the 
 conquered  territory,  while  the  native  names  of  natural 
 objects,  such  as  rivers,  mountains,  and  the  like,  are  al- 
 most certain  to  be  adopted  by  the  conquerors.  When 
 a  barbarous  nation  strives  with  and  overcomes  one  par- 
 tially civilized,  the  points  of  strategic  importance  in  a 
 military  view  will  be  named  by  the  barbarians,  while 
 the  other  names  will  be  very  slow  to  change.  So  much 
 for  explanation;  now  for  illustration.  England  was  first 
 inhabited  by  a  nation  of  Celts.  The  Romans  invaded 
 and  conquered  the  island,  and  during  an  occupation  of 
 five  centuries  founded  and  named  many  cities,  construct- 
 ed roads,  and  other  works  of  public  utility.  The  bulk 
 of   the    nomenclature,    therefore,    in    England    became 
 
LECTURE  OF   PROF.    MCANALLY.  233 
 
 Latin;  but  in  spite  of  so  long  an  occupation,  here  and 
 there  throughout  England  proper  there  still  remain 
 names  of  mountains  and  rivers  which  can  claim  a  Celtic 
 origin.  Wales  and  the  Scotch  Highlands  were  never 
 conquered  by  the  Romans,  and  consequently,  to  this  day, 
 the  local  names  in  these  two  countries  are  almost  wholly 
 Celtic,  while  the  town  names  of  England,  in  spite  of  all 
 the  changes  the  country  has  undergone,  retain  not  a  few 
 traces  of  their  Latin  origin.  The  Anglo-Saxons,  as  a 
 race,  succeeded  the  Romans,  and  the  curious  fact  is  ob- 
 servable, that  while  many  of  the  larger  cities  kept  the 
 names  given  them  by  the  Romans,  the  villages,  where 
 the  Saxons  mainly  established  themselves,  took  on  new 
 appellations,  Anglo-Saxon  in  character.  But  for  hun- 
 dreds of  years  the  Saxons  were  subjected  to  the  periodi- 
 cal inroads  of  the  Danes,  and  these  free-booters  of  the 
 sea,  coming  in  vessels,  were  forced  to  frequent  portions 
 of  the  coast  where  the  harbors  were  good,  and  in  their 
 inland  forays,  to  travel  up  rivers  for  the  sake  of  the  as- 
 sistance and  protection  afforded  by  their  attendant  ships, 
 The  theory,  therefore,  would  be,  that  the  names  in  such 
 localities  should  be  Danish ;  and  this  theory  we  find  sub- 
 stantiated by  the  facts  in  the  case.  The  Norman  con- 
 quest introduced  feudalism  into  England,  with  all  the 
 concomitants  of  chivalry,  knights,  and  castles,  and  we 
 would,  therefore,  expect  to  find  that  the  sites  of  the  in- 
 land castles  and  fortresses  constructed  for  three  hundred 
 years  after  1066,  would  bear  Norm  an- French  names. 
 This  is  exactly  the  state  of  fact  in  the  case,  and  hun- 
 dreds, if  not  thousands,  of  illustrations  might  be  cited  to 
 demonstrate  the  truth  of  the  statement.  The  same  gen- 
 eral condition  of  things  exists  under  similar  circum- 
 stances in  the  south  of  Europe.  Wherever  the  Saracens 
 or  Moors,  as   they   were  called,  went,  they  stayed  and 
 
234  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOUBI. 
 
 called  the  cities  they  occupied  or  built  after  their  own 
 pleasure.  Accordingly,  we  find  that  in  Spain,  the  por- 
 tions of  the  country  longest  inhabited  by  the  Moors, 
 possess  most  Arabian  names  of  places;  and  in  the  south 
 of  Spain,  where  the  Moors  made  their  last  stand,  there 
 is  hardly  a  genuine  Spanish  name  to  be  found.  The 
 universality  of  the  rule  is  so  well  admitted,  however, 
 that  illustration  is  almost  unnecessary.  The  point  in 
 question  is  so  remarkably  well  set  forth  by  the  history 
 and  local  names  of  our  own  country,  that  a  few  illustra- 
 tions may  not  be  judged  inappropriate.  Everybody 
 knows  how  the  West  India  Islands,  Mexico,  Florida, 
 and  the  most  of  South  America  were  settled  by  the 
 Spanish;  how  the  Mississippi  Valley  and  the  region  of 
 the  great  lakes  down  to  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  em- 
 bracing a  vast  semi-circle  of  territory,  were  claimed  and 
 partially  settled  by  the  French;  how  the  New  England 
 colonies  were  established  by  one  class  of  Englishmen, 
 Maryland  and  Virginia  by  another,  and  Pennsylvania 
 by  a  third;  how  Manhattan  Island  was  settled  by  the 
 Dutch;  and  how  a  solitary  Swedish  settlement  was  made 
 near  New  York.  These  are  historical  facts,  demon- 
 strated by  authentic  and  reliable  documents;  but  were 
 all  written  history  on  the  subject  lost,  it  would  be  quite 
 possible  to  trace  the  settlement  of  the  various  nations 
 mentioned  by  the  local  names  still  in  daily  use.  But  we 
 can  do  more  than  this.  If  we  knew  nothing  whatever 
 of  the  nations  who  conquered  and  possessed  the  New 
 World,  we  would  still  be  able  to  infer  a  number  of 
 curious  facts.  We  might,  for  instance,  from  the  remark- 
 able number  of  saint's  names  applied  to  localities  in 
 Spanish  America,  legitimately  conclude  that  the  Spanish 
 possessed  a  romantic  valor  born  of  chivalry,  and  a 
 strongly  imaginative  religious  element  in  their  mental 
 
LECTUBEI    OF  PROF.  MC ANALLY.  235 
 
 constitution,  enabling  them  to  overcome  all  obstacles  by 
 the  help  of  their  guardian  saints.  The  overflowing 
 gratitude  of  Columbus  to  the  Saviour,  who  had  guided 
 him  through  so  many  difficulties  and  protected  him 
 through  such  a  maze  of  perils,  inspired  him  to  name  the 
 first  land  he  found  after  that  Savious,  and  aSan  Salva- 
 dor" will  therefore  go  down  into  history  an  eternal  me- 
 morial of  the  profound  piety  of  the  man,  while  such 
 names  as  "La  Trinidad,"  "Vera  Cruz,"  "Santa  Cruz," 
 and  hundreds  of  others  similar  in  character  remain  to 
 attest  the  well  known  fact  that  other  Spanish  explorers 
 were  as  pious  as  he.  We  could  also  judge  of  the  other 
 extreme  of  piety  manifested  by  the  Puritan  Settlers  in 
 New  England,  whose  "Salem,"  and  "Concord,"  and 
 "Providence,"  remain  indubitable  witnesses  of  their 
 faith.  We  might  conjecture  the  aristocratic  spirit  of  the 
 Southern  colonists,  whose  "Virginia,"  and  "Jamestown," 
 and  "Kings  County,"  and  "Norfolk,"  and  "Suffolk,"  and 
 "Cape  Charles,"  and  "Cape  Henry,"  tell  of  a  time  when 
 colonization  was  the  pet  sport  of  the  English  sovereigns. 
 So,  also,  might  the  "City  of  Brotherly  Love"  be  sub- 
 poenaed to  give  testimony  to  the  genuine  Quaker  spirit; 
 while  the  numerous  aristocratic  or  royalist  names  in 
 East  Tennessee,  such  as  "Bristol,"  "New  Market," 
 "Knoxville,"  "London,"  "Loudon,"  and  others,  con- 
 tribute their  mite  to  the  explanation  of  the  fact  that  the 
 tories  of  Virginia  and  North  Carolina  preferred  "going 
 West"  to  taking  service  in  the  American  ranks  during 
 the  Revolutionary  war.  Scattered  over  the  whole  coun- 
 try, however,  are  the  beautiful  Indian  names  of  rivers 
 and  mountains,  the  "Missouri,"  and  the  "Mississippi," 
 the  "Tennessee,"  and  the  "Alabama,"  the  "Alleghany," 
 and  the  "Monongahela,"  the  "Ohio,"  the  "Nolichuckee," 
 the    "Chattahoochee,"    the     "Chattanooga,"     and     the 
 
236  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 "Apalachicola,'''  all  tell  their  story,  and  refer  us  to  a 
 time  when,  step  by  step,  slowly  and  unwillingly,  some- 
 times peaceably  and  sometimes  by  force,  the  Indians  re- 
 tired before  the  axe  and  the  rifle,  but  tarried  long  enough 
 to  teach  the  white  man  the  names  of  the  objects  most 
 prominent  in  the  physical  constitution  of  the  country. 
 
 In  regard  to  the  geological  significance  of  proper 
 names,  it  might  at  first  seem  that  nothing  is  more  endur- 
 ing than  "the  everlasting  hills,  the  vales  in  quietness  be- 
 tween, and  old  ocean's  gray  and  melancholy  waste,"  but 
 beyond  all  question,  the  language  of  man,  in  one  form 
 or  another,  has  shown  itself  even  more  changeless  than 
 the  face  *of  nature,  and  strange  as  it  may  appear,  the 
 geological  changes  of  given  districts  may  often  be  eluci- 
 dated by  a  reference  to  the  names  of  localities  in  those 
 districts.  One  or  two  illustrations  must  suffice.  Taylor 
 says  that  there  is  no  sort  of  doubt  that  the  whole  valley 
 of  the  Thames  was  once  an  estuary,  which,  in  the  last 
 thousand  years,  has  silted  up;  and  this  fact  is  beautifully 
 demonstrated  by  the  name  endings  of  almost  every  city 
 in  the  Valley.  Ea  or  ey  is  a  Saxon  termination  signify- 
 ing island;  and  Putney,  and  Osney,  and  Moulsey,  and 
 Whitney,  and  many  others,  are  cited  as  showing  that 
 the  towns  so  designated  formerly  occupied  island  sites. 
 The  island  of  Thanet,  where  the  Angles  and  Saxons 
 first  landed,  is  now  joined  to  the  mainland  by  broad  pas- 
 tures, while  the  harbor,  which  formerly  sheltered  Roman 
 galleys,  is  now  converted  into  beautiful  farms.  A  better 
 illustration  may  be  found  in  the  North  of  Italy.  The 
 whole  plain  of  the  Po  is  rising  with  considerable  rapid- 
 ity, so  that  at  Modena,  the  ruins  of  the  Roman  city 
 which  occupied  that  site  twelve  hundred  years  ago  are 
 now  found  forty  feet  below  the  present  surface.  Ra- 
 retina  two  thousand  years  ago  was  a  seaport;  it  is  now 
 
LECTURE  OF   PROF.    MCANALLY.  237 
 
 two  miles  inland;  Adria,  which,  two  hundred  years  be- 
 fore Christ,  was  the  chief  port  of  the  Adriatic,  and  gave 
 its  name  to  the  sea,  now  stands  twenty  miles  from  the 
 coast.  Other  cases,  illustrating  the  longevity  of  names, 
 may  be  cited.  The  "New  Forest,"  established  by  Wil- 
 liam the  Conqueror  for  the  benefit  of  his  game,  still 
 claims  the  title,  though  an  oak  here  and  there  is  the  sole 
 representative  of  the  former  dense  woods.  The  "Black 
 Forest"  of  Argyle  has  now  nothing  of  the  forest  but 
 the  name,  while  such  local  names  as  "Beverly,"  "Bever- 
 stone,"  and  "Bevercoates,"'  led  philologists  to  suspect, 
 before  geologists  ascertained,  that  the  beaver  was  once 
 as  common  in  England  as  the  deer. 
 
 In  a  smaller  way,  an  illustration  of  the  manner  in 
 which  names  continue  to  be  used  after  all  their  signifi- 
 cance is  lost  or  has  been  forgotten,  is  seen  in  the  name 
 of  the  now  celebrated  "Gramercy  Square,"  in  New 
 York  city.  For  a  long  time  this  name  was  supposed  to 
 be  of  French  origin,  and  nobody  knew  what  it  did 
 mean,  until,  not  long  ago,  some  antiquarian,  delving 
 among  the  city  archives,  unearthed  an  old  Dutch  chart, 
 and  where  this  "Gramercy  Square"  is  now  situated, 
 there  was  formerly  a  long,  irregular  pond,  called  by  the 
 honest  Hollanders  Der  Kromme  Zee — the  crooked  sea 
 — and  the  whole  difficulty  vanished.  Opposite  St. 
 Louis,  Mo.,  there  was  formerly  an  island  known  as 
 "Bloody  Island,"  from  the  number  of  duels  fought 
 there.  It  has  for  many  years  been  a  part  of  the  Illinois 
 mainland,  but  it  is  "Bloody  Island"  still,  and  likely  to  re- 
 main so.  Near  the  southern  portion  of  the  same  city, 
 there  was  once  an  island  in  the  Mississippi  called  "Dun- 
 can's Island."  For  nearly  twenty  years  it  has  been  a 
 part  of  the  Missouri  shore,  and  men  live  over  what  was 
 once  the  bed  of  the  stream;  but  the  limits  of  "Duncan's 
 
238  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 Island"  are  still  as  strictly  defined  as  when  the  Father  of 
 Waters  surrounded  it  on  every  side. 
 
 An  attempt  has  thus  been  made  to  impart  some  idea 
 of  the  meaning  wrapped  up  in  the  husks  of  the  English 
 language.  A  brief  recapitulation  of  the  principal  points 
 must  now  answer  for  a  conclusion.  Language  in  gen- 
 eral is  exceeding  slow  to  change,  but  under  some  cir- 
 cumstances is  capable  of  swallowing,  digesting  and  as- 
 similating anything  that  may  be  offered.  It  has  been 
 shown  that  language  is  an  index  to  character  so  infalli- 
 ble, that  the  human  countenance  itself,  with  all  its  variety 
 and  beauty  of  change,  is  not  more  sure.  It  has  been 
 shown  that  there  is  poetry  in  words  as  well  as  in  stones, 
 brooks  and  flowers;  and  morality  in  nouns  and  adjec- 
 tives as  well  as  in  men  and  women.  It  may  be  consid- 
 ered settled  that  the  destruction  of  a  national  language 
 is  an  impossibility,  and  that  even  the  proudest  nations 
 of  conquerors  are  forced  to  enrich  their  vocabulary  with 
 the  language  of  their  slaves.  The  "natural  selection" 
 of  words  has  been  touched,  and  the  fact  elicited,  that 
 one  word  dies  and  another  lives;  not  by  chance,  but  in 
 obedience  to  laws  as  yet  little  understood.  History  has 
 demonstrated  that  a  name  is  more  enduring  than  a  mon- 
 ument; that  the  former  will  be  remembered  when  the 
 latter  has  crumbled  to  powder;  that  a  local  appellation 
 will  outlive  a  mountain,  and  will  be  on  the  tongues  of 
 men  when  the  valley  has  become  exahed;  and  that  the 
 language  of  men,  changeless,  yet  ever  changing,  identi- 
 cal, yet  never  at  any  two  periods  the  same,  like  the  river 
 in  Horace,  flows  on,  and  will  so  flow  on  forever. 
 
ARNOLD  OF  RUGBY. 
 
 By  Miss  Grace  C.  Bibb,  Professor  of  Pedagogics 
 
 and   Dean    of    the    Normal    Faculty    of    the 
 
 University  of  the  State  of  Missouri. 
 
 "All    history"   says    Emerson   is   a    record    of    the 
 
 power   of  minorities,  and   of  minorities  of  one.     Again, 
 
 "The   measure  of  greatness  shall  be  usefulness  in  the 
 
 highest   sense — greatness   consisting  in  truth,  reverence 
 
 and  good  will." 
 
 Tried  by  this  test,  Arnold  was  preeminently  great. 
 Born  in  the  true  Apostolic  succession  he  was  to  all  with- 
 in the  wide  sphere  of  his  influence  a  minister  of  strength 
 and  of  comfort,  of  courage  and  of  consolation.  Gov- 
 erned by  motives  so  lofty  as  to  be  frequently  misunder- 
 stood, he  was  yet  a'man  of  strong  practical  good  sense 
 and  rather  a  worker  than  a  theorist  about  work.  In 
 some  points,  it  is  probable,  that  he  would  be  set  down 
 by  the  latitudinarianism  of  to-day  as  intolerant,  but  if  he 
 were  intolerant  it  was  of  that  which  he  believed  to  be 
 wrong,  and  from'the  same  spirit  in  which  the  martyrs 
 of  old  suffered  for  their  convictions.  There  was  in  him 
 a  gravity  that  approached  sternness  and  a  sense  of  justice 
 that  blazed,  sometimes,  into  indignation,  yet  withal  a 
 tenderness  which  through  all  anxieties  and  cares  gave  to 
 his  life  freshness  and  to  his  heart  power  to  cherish  all 
 holy  affections  and  sweet  charities,  all  pure  aspirations. 
 Thomas  Arnold,  the  great  head  master  of  Rugby, 
 
240  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 the  reformer  we  may  almost  say,  of  education  in  Eng- 
 land, the  typical  teacher,  was  born  in  the  Isle  of  Wight, 
 June  13th,  1795.  His  father  died  suddenly  before  the 
 boy  had  completed  his  sixth  year,  perishing  of  a  disease 
 of  the  heart  which  was  unfortunately  inherited  by  the 
 son,  whose  life,  in  the  early  maturity  of  his  manhood 
 and  in  the  midst  of  a  happy  and  most  beneficent  career, 
 it  was  destined  to  destroy. 
 
 His  biographer  tells  us  that  as  a  young  child  Arnold 
 was  under  the  instruction  of  his  aunt,  Miss  Delafield,  a 
 a  lady  of  wise  judgment,  affectionate  feeling  and  strong 
 intellect,  but  that,  when  still  a  little  fellow  of  perhaps 
 eight  or  nine,  he  was  sent  to  Warminster  School  and 
 four  years  later  to  Winchester,  most  celebrated  for  its 
 historical  associations.  This  school  owes  its  foundation 
 to  William  of  Wykeham  and  perhaps  to  a  taunt.  We 
 are  told  that  Wykeham  having  been  spoken  of  for  a 
 bishopric  was  derided  for  his  lack  of  scholarship — not  a 
 very  astonishing  lack  in  a  man  of  his  time — and  that  he 
 thereupon  made  answer  thus:  "I  am  unworthy,  but 
 wherein  I  am  unworthy  myself,  that  will  I  supply  by  a 
 brood  of  more  scholars  than  all  the  prelates  of  England 
 ever  showed."  Bishop  of  Winchester  and  later  Lord 
 Chancellor  Wykeham,  after  numerous  vicissitudes,  es- 
 tablished his  College  of  St.  Mary  Winton  at  Oxford,  as 
 a  little  earlier  he  had  founded  his  preparatory  college 
 and  preliminary  Grammar  School  at  Winchester,  pro- 
 vision being  made  for  the  education  of  seventy  boys. 
 
 "And  still  his  seventy  faithful  boys  in  these  presumptuous  days, 
 Learn  the  old   truth,  speak  the  old  words,  tread  in  the  ancient 
 ways. 
 ***  ***  ***  *** 
 
 Still  in  their  Sabbath  worship  they  troop  by  Wykeham's  tomb, 
 Still  in  the  summer  twilight  sing  their  old  sweet  song  of  home." 
 
LECTURE   OF    PROF.    GRACE   C.    BIBB.  241 
 
 Thus  sang  Sir  Roundell  Palmer,  himself  a  Win- 
 chester boy,  as  quoted  in  the  work,  "The  Great  Schools- 
 of  England,"  to  which  I  am  indebted  for  most  facts  con- 
 cerning them. 
 
 There  are,  indeed,  those  who  trace  the  foundation-, 
 of  the  school  at  Winchester,  upon  whose  site  the  colleoe 
 was  erected,  to  the  time  of  the  conversion  of  Britain  to- 
 Christianity,  saying  that  here  Ethelward,  son  of  the 
 great  Alfred,  received  the  rudiments  of  education,  artd: 
 that  shortly  after  the  Conquest  the  school  was  well: 
 known.  However  this  may  be,  its  undoubted  associa- 
 tions are  most  romantic,  and  it  claims  for  its  own  many 
 illustrious  names  both  civil  and  military.  Besides  Dr. 
 Arnold  himself,  it  numbers  on  its  bead  roll  of  fame 
 many  another  hero,  bishops  and  archbishops,  as  well  as 
 poets  and  prose  writers  innumerable — Young,  Collins, 
 Otway,  Somerville,  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  Sydney  Smith- 
 and  many  another  worthy  of  our  literary  history. 
 
 We  like  to  think  of  the  boy  Arnold,  with  his  prac- 
 tical yet  enthusiastic  nature,  and  his  tendency  to  hero 
 worship,  as  possessed  to  some  degree  of  the  freedom  of 
 Winchester,  a  town  so  old  that  its  history  goes  quite 
 back  into  Celtic  times,  the  capital  alike  of  the  Briton,, 
 the  Roman  and  the  Norman.  Here  Alfred  held  his 
 council;  here  is  still  shown  what  devout  believers  may 
 accept  as  the  veritable  "Round  Table"  of  King  Arthur; 
 here  Henry  II  began  "a  noble  palace."  It  was  to  Win- 
 chester that  Henry  VI  journeyed  to  meet  his  Queen, 
 during  this  and  other  visits,  bestowing  on  the  college 
 many  valuable  gifts.  Henry  VII  too  visited  the  place, 
 and  here  Henry  VIII  entertained  Charles  V.  Here 
 Philip  and  Mary  were  married  and  were  received  at 
 the  college.  Queen  Elizabeth,  too,  paid  the  students  a 
 visit  upon  which  occasion  having  asked  one  of  the  boy? 
 
2  12  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOUKI. 
 
 for  some  information  with  reference  to  the  birch,  a  rep« 
 resentalion  of  which  appeared  on  the  wall  above  the 
 motto  not  infrequent  in  public  schools:  '•'■Aid  disce;  aut 
 disccde;  manct  sors  tcrtia  caedi"  ib  said  to  have  re- 
 ceived answer  thus,  the  student  being:  fresh  from  Virsril 
 and  the  woes  of  Troy :  "Infandum  Regina,  jubes  re- 
 novare  dolor cm. ,"(*) 
 
 Residence  in  a  town  like  this  whose  every  stone  had 
 Its  history,  with  its  old  walls,  its  noble  cathedral,  its  cel- 
 brated  schools  and  its  dignified  charities,  could  not  fail 
 to  impress  deeply  a  nature  like  that  of  Arnold;  to  this 
 residence  is,  doubtless,  partly  traceable  his  fondness  for 
 history  and  its  lessons,  as  well  as  his  disposition  to  judge 
 things  upon  their  real  merits  and  men  by  their  real 
 worth  uninfluenced  by  tne  popular  verdict  in  respect  to 
 either.  For  Winchester  is  a  town  where  walls  and 
 streets  and  palaces  preach  eloquent  if  voiceless  sermons 
 on  the  vanity  of  earthly  glory  and  the  transitoriness  of 
 human  fa  ne.  Arnold's  later  attachment  to  Oxford  was 
 deep  and  fervent;  his  appointment  to  the  Regins  pro- 
 fessorship of  History  was  the  realization  of  the  dream 
 of  his  whole  life,  and  yet  always,  with  the  fondness 
 of  tenacious  memory,  his  thoughts  reverted  to  the  happy 
 and  suggestive  years  of  his  Winchester  residence. 
 
 In  his  sixteenth  year  Arnold  was  entered  at  Oxford 
 his  college  being  that  of  Corpus  Christi,  which  was 
 though  small  a  college  of  high  reputation.  Here  his 
 mental  development  was  rapid  though  it  is  doubtful  if 
 his  scholarship  could  ever,  with  justice,  be  made  the 
 measure  of  his  ability.  Since  his  taste  led  him  into  the 
 society  of  the  Greek  philosophers  and  historians  rather 
 than  into  that  of  the  poets,  it  was  difficult  to  estimate  his 
 
 {*)     Great  Schools  of  England, 
 
LECTURE   OP    PROF.   ORACE   C.    BIBB.  243 
 
 knowledge  by  popular  standards  or  to  balance  it  with 
 the  college  requirements.  His  stay  at  Corpus  Christ! 
 had,  however,  a  most  salutary  influence  on  his  intellect- 
 ual life  for  its  methods  were  admirable.  It  was  noted 
 for  the  impartiality  of  its  examinations  and  for  the  Uni- 
 versity honors  it  had  gained;  it  carefully  adapted  its 
 mode  of  work  to  the  age  of  its  students  and  to  the  de- 
 gree of  their  mental  development,  combining  individual 
 with  class  instruction  in  such  a  way  as  to  further  most 
 effectually  intellectual  growth.  It  did  not  at  once  throw 
 its  students  upon  their  own  resources,  but  very  gradually 
 prepared  them  to  assume,  relatively,  the  control,  of  their 
 own  education  and  of  their  own  action.  The  boys, 
 bright  and  active  in  intellect,  had  the  true  English 
 courage  of  their  convictions  and  the  time  was  one  of  ag- 
 itation in  which  they  naturally  sympathized.  Dean 
 Stanley,  his  biographer  to  whose  "Life  and  Letters  of 
 Arnold"  we  are  indebted  for  most  of  the  facts  of  his 
 life  gives  at  length  a  letter  from  one  of  his  contempara- 
 ries  which  bears  upon  his  Oxford  career;  Irom  this  let- 
 ter we  may  be  permitted  to  make  the  following  extract: 
 "We  might  be,  indeed,  were  somewhat  boyish  in  manner  and 
 in  the  liberties  we  took  with  ench  other;  but  our  interest  in  litera- 
 ture, ancient  and  modern,  and  in  all  the  stirring  matters  of  that 
 stirring  time  was  not  boyish;  we  debated  the  classic  and  romantic 
 question;  we  discussed  poetry  and  history,  logic  and  philosophy; 
 or  we  fought  over  the  Peninsular  battles  and  the  continental  cam- 
 paigns with  the  energy  of  disputants  personally  concerned  in 
 them." 
 
 In  all  these  discussions,  it  is  said,  Arnold  took  an 
 active  part.  What  then  or  later  he  believed,  he  believed 
 with  heart  and  soul  as  well  as  intellect;  what  seemed  to 
 him  worth  argument  seemed,  therefore,  worth  defence 
 against  all  attack,  or  worth  as  vigorous  urging  where 
 there  was  hope  that  its  validity  might  be  acknowledged. 
 
t4A  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 Spite  of  his  fondness  for  history  and  of  his  devotion  to 
 that  most  tyrannous  "master  of  them  that  know,"  Aris- 
 totle, his  mental  attitude  was  always  aggressive.  He 
 was  intolerant  of  the  existing  order  unlei-s  that  order 
 were  plainly  founded  in  Divine  right.  A  fierce  demo- 
 crat and  an  ardent  reformer  he  believed  himself,  doubt- 
 less, as  is  the  wont  of  young  and  ardent  spirits,  a  verita- 
 ble champion  to  whom  was  entrusted  the  sword  of  the 
 Lord  and  of  Gideon.  The  affectionate  nature  of  the 
 boy,  the  fact  that  he  argued  only  for  truth  and  that 
 when  overborne  with  reasons  he  was  always  ready  to  ad- 
 mit himself  vanquished  and  to  acknowledge  the  jnstice 
 of  the  defeat,  tempered  the  asperity  of  conflict  and  kept 
 almost  undisturbed  those  fraternal  relations  with  his  as- 
 sociates out  of  which  grew  some  of  the  strongest  and 
 most  lasting  attachments  of  his  life. 
 
 I  have  said  that  Arnold,  at  this  time,  cared  little  for 
 the  poets;  then  and  for  a  long  time  afterward,  he  held 
 tenaciously  to  the  theoiy  that  form  in  literary  composi- 
 tion is  a  matter  of  so  inconsiderable  moment  as  to  be 
 unworthy  of  serious  consideration.  To  him  thought 
 was  the  important,  the  only  important  thing.  His  own 
 Style  during  his  earlier  years  was,  perhaps  by  reason  of 
 this  theory,  exceedingly  uninteresting.  Fortunately  for 
 those  of  us  who  delight  in  the  charm  which  his  elegant 
 pen  has  thrown  about  the  "History  of  Rome,"  his  prac- 
 tice at  least,  was  finally  very  greatly  changed.  It  is 
 possible,  indeed,  that  the  beauty  of  his  later  style  may 
 be  due  to  the  admiration,  which  in  despite  of  his  theory, 
 he  early  manifested  for  the  picturesque  narrative  of 
 Herodotus,  of  which  author  and  of  Thucydides  he  was 
 very  fond.  His  Oxford  training,  if  it  gave  him  no 
 special  reputation  for  profound  scholarship,  yet  served, 
 admirably,  to  develop  the  originality  and  self-reliance 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.   GRACE  C.   BIBB.  245 
 
 out  of  which,  together  with  his  stern  integrity  and  ex- 
 treme conscientiousness,  his  great  influence  grew. 
 
 Alike  as  boy  and  man  Arnold  was  delighted  by 
 athletic  sports  and  vigorous  physical  exercise.  He  had, 
 too,  us  a  native  of  the  Isle  ot  Wight  should  rightfully 
 have  a  strong  and  enduring  love  for  the  sea.  To  his 
 deep  and  passionate  fondness  for  external  nature  in  her 
 various  forms  is  no  doubt  due  much  of  the  youthfulness 
 of  spirit  which  throughout  a  life  not  ignorant  of  care 
 and  much  disturbed  by  misconstruction  and  hostile  con- 
 troversy, kept  his  mind  open  as  that  of  a  child,  to  im- 
 pressions ot  beauty  and  caused  his  heart  to  throb  with 
 new  emotion  at  every  instance  of  heroism  or  of  self-de- 
 votion. No  human  soul,  I  imagine,  ever  more  fully 
 realized  the  depth  that  is  to  be  found  in  those  well- 
 known  lines  of  Wordsworth: 
 
 Nature  never  did  betray 
 The  heart  that  loved  her;  'tis  her  privilege 
 Through  all  the  years  of  this  one  life,  to  lead 
 From  joy  to  joy;  for  she  can  so  inform 
 The  mind  that  is  within  us,  so  impress 
 With  quietness  and  beauty,  and  so  feed 
 With  lofty  thoughts,  that  neither  evil  tongues, 
 Rash  judgments,  nor  the  sneers  of  selfish  men 
 Nor  greeting  where  no  kindness  is,  nor  all 
 The  dreary  intercourse  of  daily  life, 
 Shall  e'er  prevail  against  us,  or  destroy 
 Our  cheerful  faith  that  all  which  we  behold 
 Is  mil  of  blessing." 
 To  his  love  of  nature  and  to  his  fondness  for  ath- 
 letic  sports   we  may  perhaps  trace   that   preeminently 
 healthy   tone    whieh   was   a   characteristic   of  Arnold's 
 ■mind  and  out  of  which  so   much  of  his   influence  over 
 boys,   undoubtedly,    grew;    this    healthy    and    vigorous 
 mental  state  seems  never  to  have  been  disturbed  except 
 during  a  brief   period  when    he   was   led    into   serious 
 
246  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 doubts  on  several  points  of  religious  belief.  These 
 doubts  dispelled,  his  character  settled  into  deep  and  seri- 
 ous earnestness,  which  thereafter  was  its  leading  charac- 
 teristic and  which  endowed  him  with  that  serenity  and 
 patience  in  effort,  as  well  as  that  sympathetic  knowledge' 
 of  mental  suffering,  which  gave  him  such  control  of  the 
 spiritual  nature  of  those,  who,  in  after  years,  came  under 
 his  wise  instruction.  The  same  friend  from  whom  I 
 have  already  quoted,  says  of  his  Oxford   career: 
 
 "At  the  commencement  a  boy,  and  at  the  close  retaining,  not 
 ungracefully,  much  of  boyish  spirits,  frolic  and  simplicity;  in 
 mind  vigorous,  active,  clear-sighted,  industrious,  and  daily  accum- 
 ulating and  assimilating  treasures  of  knowledge,  not  adverse  to 
 poetry  but  delighting  rather  in  dialectics,  philosophy  and  history, 
 with  less  of  imaginative  than  reasoning  power;  in  argument,  bold 
 almost  to  presumption  and  vehement,  in  temper,  easily  roused  to 
 indignation,  yet  more  easily  appeased  and  entirely  free  from  bit- 
 terness; fired,  indeed,  by  what  he  deemed  ungenerous  or  unjust 
 to  others,  rather  than  by  any  sense  of  personal  wrong;  somewhat 
 too  little  deferential  to  authority;  yet,  without  any  real  inconsis- 
 tency, loving  what  was  good  or  great  in  antiquity  the  more  ar- 
 dently and  reverently  because  it  was  ancient. 
 
 "In  heart,  if  I  can  speak  with  confidence  of  any  of  the  friendi 
 of  my  youth,  I  can  of  hi*,  that  it  was  devout  and  pure;  simple, 
 •ineere,  affectionate  and  faithful." 
 
 With  this  character  he  began  his  work  in  the 
 world,  that  of  training  young  minds  to  wisdom  and  vir- 
 tue; in  which  work  over  the  lives  of  so  many  boys,  his 
 private  pupils  first,  and  afterward  the  great  school-com- 
 munity of  Rugby,  over  the  very  flower  of  England's 
 young  manhood,  he  exerted  an  influence  for  good  so  po- 
 tent and  so  lasting.  It  is  verily  a  true  dictum  of  Carlyle 
 that  "mind  grows  only  by  contact  with  living  spirit  and 
 that  the  quality  of  its  growth  depends  on  the  quality  of 
 the  spirit  by  which  it  is  touched." 
 
liKCTURE   OF   PROF.    GRACE   C.    BIBB.  247 
 
 Leaving  Oxford  as  a  student  Arnold  yet  lingered  in 
 its  classic  shades  for  four  busy  years  so  loth  was  he  to 
 tear  himself  from  the  libraries;  to  these  he  devoted  long 
 days  of  thoughtful  reading  which  bore  fruit  eventually 
 in  his  general  literary  work  and  in  his  class  lectures;, 
 during  this  time  of  study  and  reflection  he  began,  with 
 some  private  pupils,  that  labor  which  .so  soon  growing 
 into  a  settled  calling  demanded  his  utmost  devotion  and 
 called  out  all  the  enthusiasm  of  his  enthusiastic  nature— 
 the  work  indeed  which  came  to  him  as  to  one  supremely 
 qualified  to  perform  it.  So,  I  think,  to  each  one  of  us 
 our  life  work  would  come,  at  one  time  or  at  another, 
 could  only  our  eyes  be  annointed  with  such  power  of 
 vision  as  would  enable  us  to  recognize  our  deeply  dis- 
 guised angel  of  benefaction. 
 
 About  1819  Arnold  settled,  as  he  thought,  perma- 
 nently, at  Laleham,  with  his  brother's  family  having 
 been,  in  the  preceding  year,  ordained  as  deacon.  He 
 was  married  in  1S20  to  Mary  Penrose,  whose  brother 
 had  for  a  long  time  been  numbered  among  his  dearest 
 friends.  Until  his  election  in  1827  to  the  head  master- 
 ship of  Rugby  he  continued  at  Laleham  his  school  for 
 the  preparation  of  young  men  for  admission  to  the  uni- 
 versities. His  life  here  seemed  in  all  respects  happy  and 
 useful,  though  it  could  not  give  scope  to  all  his  powers; 
 in  his  own  development  it  seems  to  have  been  a  period 
 of  transition  in  which  crudities  of  character  disappeared 
 and  aims  became  definite,  the  whole  nature  maturing 
 into  such  a  manhood  as  was  afterward  to  prove  the  as- 
 sertion of  the  greatest  of  the  Greek  dramatists  that 
 
 ,:  Only  in  God's  garden  men  may  reap 
 True  joy  and  bl<    sing." 
 
 Arnold  had  found,  as  I  have  already  said,  while  still 
 very  young  his  true  office  in  the  ministry  of  man:  for- 
 
248  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 lunate  as  was  this  fact  for  him  it  was  doubly  fortunate 
 for  his  influence  in  education;  he  was  near  enough  in 
 age  to  his  pupils  to  be  able  actively  to  sympathize  with 
 them  in  their  boyish  trials  as  well  as  in  their  amuse- 
 ments, at  the  same  time  that  his  inherent  earnestness 
 and  devotion  to  duty  together  with  the  external  respon« 
 sibilities  he  had  assumed  endowed  him  with  a  wisdom 
 beyond  his  years.  In  his  married  life  he  was  most  happy 
 and  the  influences  of  his  home  were  always  extended  to 
 the  boys  immediately  under  his  care.  Upon  this  period 
 of  his  life  full  of  interest  though  it  is,  time  forbids  us 
 •to  linger,  and  I  will  close  this  epoch  with  a  quotation 
 from  one  of  his  own  letters  written,  I  believe,  during 
 its  continuance  and  expressing  some  of  his  views  of 
 the  nature  of  the  education  demanded  by  our  period  of 
 civilization : 
 
 "The  difference  between  a  useful  education  and  one  which 
 does  not  affect  the  future  life,  rests  mainly  on  the  greater  or  less 
 activity  with  which  it  is  communicated  to  the  pupil's  mind} 
 whether  he  has  learned  to  think,  or  act,  and  gain  knowledge  bjr 
 himself  or  whether  he  has  merely  followed  passively  as  long  at 
 there  was  some  one  to  draw  him." 
 
 A  gentleman  associated  with  Arnold  in  the  Lale- 
 ham  school,  said  of  it: 
 
 "Everything  about  me  I  at  once  found  to  be  most  real;  it  was 
 a  place  where  a  new  comer  at  once  felt  that  a  great  and  earnest 
 work  was  going  forward.  Dr.  Arnold's  great  power  as  a  private 
 tutor  resided  in  this  that  he  gave  such  an  intense  earnestness  to 
 life.  ***  **#  *#* 
 
 "This  wonderful  power  of  making  all  his  pupils  respect  them* 
 selves  and  of  awakening  in  them  a  consciousness  of  the  duties 
 that  God  assigned  to  them  personally  and  of  the  consequent  rc» 
 ward  each  should  have  of  his  labors  was  one  of  Arnold's  most 
 characteristic  features  in  the  training  of  youth." 
 
 I  give  these  long  quotations  from  the  letters  of 
 Arnold  and  of  his  associates,  even  at  the  risk  of  weary- 
 
LECTURE   OF   PROF.   GRACE   C.    BIBB.  249 
 
 ing  you,  because  it  is  my  purpose  to  give  you  as  com- 
 plete a  picture  a6  possible  of  Arnold  the  man  both  in  his 
 inner  spiritual  nature  and  in  his  external  life.  From  this 
 picture  I  trust  we  may  all  learn,  in  greater  or  less  de- 
 gree, wisdom,  seeing  in  it  how  all  potent  may  be  indi- 
 vidual effort  and  influence,  and  realizing  more  than  ever 
 before  how  true  it  is  that,  even  in  this  world,  "One  with 
 God  makes  a  majority."  This,  my  main  object,  can 
 often,  I  find,  best  be  subserved  by  extracts  from  the  let- 
 ters contained  in  Dean  Stanley's  Life  of  Arnold,  to 
 which  work  I  again  acknowledge  my  indebtedness. 
 
 Let  me  now  digress  from  the  direct  path  into  which 
 my  subject  leads,  that  I  may  recall  at  some  length  the 
 nature  of  the  schools  called  in  England  "Public  Schools*' 
 with  one  of  which  the  name  and  fame  of  Dr.  Arnold 
 are  now  forever  identified.  He  was,  as  has  been 
 intimated,  elected  head  master  of  Rugby  in  1827; 
 the  choice  having  fallen  upon  him  mainly  by  rea- 
 son of  a  letter,  submitted  to  the  board  having  the 
 matter  in  charge  and  written  by  a  gentleman  of 
 character  and  influence,  in  which  after  warmly  advo- 
 cating the  choice  of  Arnold,  then  comparatively  un- 
 known, he  is  said  to  have  asserted  that  such  an  election 
 would  "change  the  face  of  education  in  England."  It 
 was  generally  agreed  that,  in  many  important  respects, 
 which  we  need  not  here  dwell  upon,  a  reform  was  most 
 necessary  if  these  schools  were  to  continue  the  work  of 
 training  for  the  universities,  and  indeed  for  life,  the 
 youth  of  England;  therefore  Arnold  was  chosen. 
 
 Rugby  is  one  of  the  ten  great  endowed  schools  of 
 England,  popularly  known  as  public  schools;  they  are 
 Eton,  Winchester,  St.  Paul's,  Merchant  Taylor's,  Char- 
 ter House,  Christ's  Hospital,  Shrewsbury,  Harrow, 
 Rugby  and  Westminster.     These  schools,  except  so  far 
 
250  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 as  there  may  be  similarity  given  by  common  subjects  of 
 instruction  bear  no  resemblance  whatever  to  the  public 
 6chools  of  America.  They  are  the  training  schools  for 
 Oxford  and  Cambridge  and  their  influence  is  exerted 
 directly  upon  the  boys  of  the  upper  and  middle  classes* 
 Each  of  them  owes  its  foundation  to  private  endowment 
 and  the  large  revenues  which  most  of  them  enjoy  are  due 
 in  part  to  the  natural  increase  in  the  value  of  their  grants 
 of  lands  and  to  judicious  investment  of  the  original  fund,, 
 which  has,  in  most  instances,  been  supplemented  by  ad- 
 ditional gifts  and  bequests  of  those  specially  interested  in 
 their  individual  prosperity. 
 
 Rugby  owes  its  existence  to  the  liberality  of  Law- 
 rence Sheriff  a  citizen  of  London,  who,  about  the  mid- 
 dle of  the  sixteenth  century,  determined  to  found  an 
 almshouse  and  a  school  in  his  native  town.  A  portion 
 of  the  property  designed  for  the  futherance  of  this 
 worthy  object  he  bestowed  during  his  life  time;  a  sec- 
 ond portion  he  left  by  his  will,  directing  in  that  instru- 
 ment that  the  school  should  be  thus  designated:  "The 
 Free  Schoole  of  Lawrence  Sheriffe  of  London,  Grocer." 
 "The  school-master,"  he  directed  further,  was  to  be  "a 
 discreete  and  learned  man  chosen  to  teach  grammar  and 
 if  it  conveniently  may  be  to  be  a  Master  of  Arts."  An 
 act  of  Parliament  passed  in  1777  made  it  obligatory 
 that  the  head  master  shoud  be  "a  Master  of  Arts  of 
 Oxford  or  Cambridge  a  Potestant  of  the  Church  of 
 England."  The  assistants  number  about  twenty  and  are 
 most  of  them  appointed  by  the  head  master.  The 
 6chool  is  also  entitled  to  a  chaplain  but  since  the  time  of 
 Dr.  Arnold,  who  established  the  precedent,  the  chap- 
 laincy has  been  exercised  by  the  head  master,  to  whom 
 it  offers  a  powerful  means  of  spiritual  influence.  The 
 chapel    was  erected  in    1S14  and   contnins   five  painted 
 
LECTUHE   OF   TROF.    ORACK   O.   BIBB.  251 
 
 memorial  windows,  which  are  much  admired,  one  being 
 in   honor  of  Rugby's  Crimean  heroes   and    another  to 
 those  of  its  sons  who  fell  in  India  during  the  Sepoy  Re- 
 bellion.    Rugby   may  well  celebrate  the  fame  of    her 
 military  heroes  for  they  have  won  glory  on  every  field 
 known  to  their  country's  history  since  the  foundation  of 
 their  Alma  Matcri — in  Africa  in  the  Peninsula,  at  Wa- 
 terloo, in   the  Crimea    and  in  India.      The  wealth    of 
 Rugby  may  be  inferred    from  the  fact  that  that  portion 
 of  its  income  set  apart  for  the  payment  of  its  instructor* 
 amounts   annually     to    the    large    sum    of    more    than 
 .£20,000.     The   head    master,  who  by  the  original   pro- 
 vision? of  Lnwrence  Sheriff's  grant,  was  obliged  to  sat- 
 isfy his  temporal   wants  upon  a  stipend  of  £12  per  an- 
 num, now  receiving  a  money   salary  of  $2957  exclusive 
 of  a  residence,  garden  and  some  other  sources  of  emolu- 
 ment.    As  in  all  the  other  great  schools,  so  here  there 
 are  two  classes  of  students,  "foundationers,"  who  pay  no 
 tuition  and    for  whose   benefit  the  original  grant  of  the 
 founder  was  made,  and  unon-foundationers,"  boys    who 
 pay  all  the  expenses  of  their  residence  including  tuition 
 as  well  as  board.     The  number  of  this  latter  class  is 
 much    greater   than    of  the   former.     There  is,  in  this 
 school   at  least,  no  difference  in  the  social  status  of  the 
 iwo  classes  of  pupils.     The  students  of  the  classical  de- 
 partment, which  is  regarded  as  the  most  important,  are 
 divided  into*  three  divisions  known   from   the   degree  of 
 advancement  as  the  Upper,  Middle   and   Lower  schools. 
 There  are,  besides,  schools  of  mathematics,  physics    and 
 modern    languages,  though  their  place   seems   subordi- 
 nate.    The  boys  of  the  classical  school  are  divided  into 
 eix  "forms"  as   they  are   called,  "classes"  we  should   say 
 which  are   for  convenience    sometimes   subdivided  into 
 "parallel   divisions."      The  sixth    form   is  the    highest. 
 
252  UNIVERSITY    OP    MISSOURI- 
 
 No  boy  is  allowed  to  remain  in  school  after  the  age  of 
 nineteen;  no  boy  above  the  age  of  fifteen  is  admitted, 
 unless  qualified  to  take  such  place  as  would  of  right  be- 
 long to  his  years.  Classical  instruction  occupies  seven* 
 teen  out  of  the  twenty-two  hours  of  weekly  attendance 
 of  the  Rugby  boy  upon  class  instruction-  There  are 
 two  examinations  of  the  entire  school  during  the  year, 
 one  occurring  in  June,  the  other  in  December;  the  June 
 examinations  of  the  sixth  form  being  conducted  by  a 
 committee  appointed  by  the  universities.  A  number  of 
 prizes,  some  of  consieerable  value,  are  offered,  and  there 
 are  elected  annually,  at  an  examination  open  to  all  pu- 
 pils who  have  been  in  residence  three  years,  five  persons 
 as  representatives  of  the  school  at  the  universities  to 
 whom  pecuniary  aid  in  sums  ranging  from  £4.0  to 
 £80  per  annum  is  extended.  The  monitorial  sys- 
 tem is  much  used  in  the  government.  The  moni- 
 tors, technically  known  in  the  school  as  praeposters, 
 are  the  boys  of  the  sixth  form;  they  keep  order 
 during  roll-call,  call  over  the  names  of  students 
 at  their  respective  boarding  houses  —  the  students 
 are  apportioned  as  boarders  to  the  houses  of  the  several 
 masters — and,  sometimes,  read  the  evening  prayers. 
 Their  badge  of  office  is  a  light  cane,  and,  they  ai"e  em- 
 powered to  use  this  cane  under  certain  circumstance,  ac- 
 tively in  the  preservation  of  order,  upon  any  of  the  boys 
 below  the  fifth  form  who  may  prove  refractory;  this 
 punishment  is,  however,  limited  to  five  or  six  blows 
 across  the  shoulders,  and  their  attempts  at  correction 
 generally  take  the  form  of  the  imposition  of  extra  les- 
 sons. Fagging  is  or  at  least  was,  in  Dr.  Arnold's  time» 
 one  of  the  prominent  features  of  the  school,  resting  on 
 the  assumption  that  for  the  material  aid  furnished  by  his 
 junior  in  the  way  of  doing  errands,  dusting  or  making 
 
1.KCTDKK   OF   PROF.   GRACE    C.    BIBB.  253 
 
 toast,  the  senior  was  to  return  full  equivalent  in  his  ca- 
 pacity of  mentor.  This  ideal  interchange  of  equiva- 
 lents, it  is  unnecessary  to  say,  rarely  exists  except  in 
 theory.  Rugby  is  noted  for  its  games  of  which  foot- 
 ball is  the  game  far  excellence',  cricket,  too,  is  a  favorite 
 as  is  also  "hare  and  hounds."  The  river  Avon  which 
 runs  past  the  town  furnishes  opportunity  for  bathing  and 
 aquatic  sports  generally.  The  Rugby  boy  has  two  va- 
 cations, amounting  in  the  aggregate  to  fifteen  weeks  in 
 the  year  and  is  entitled  to  at  least  three  holidays  in  each 
 week. 
 
 The  beginning  of  Dr.  Arnold's  Rugby  career 
 opened  wide  that  door  of  opportunity,  which,  indeed,  to 
 him  who  seeks  it  is  never  closed.  The  prevalent 
 feeling  that  the  public  schools  were  falling  into 
 certain  grievous  errors,  that  as  a  minor  fault  they 
 were  devoting  too  much  time  to  the  classics  and  too 
 little  to  modern  languages  and  science,  that  as  a  very 
 serious  mistake  they  were  daily  divorcing  their  in- 
 struction more  and  more  from  religion,  was  a  conviction 
 in  which  he  deeply  shared  and  this  field  of  labor  which 
 afforded  opportunity  to  set  in  motion  the  much  needed 
 reform,  the  enthusiasm  of  his  disposition  led  him  to 
 seize  upon  with  joy.  Still  he  could  not  help  but  regret 
 the  necessity  of  leaving  his  home  at  Laleham.  The 
 surroundings  of  Rugby  were  at  best  commonplace,  and 
 little  calculated  to  satisfy  his  love  for  the  beautiful  in 
 nature.  To  escape  from  the  monotony  of  its  scenery  he 
 purchased  some  time  afterward,  an  estate  in  the  Lake 
 District  and  beautifully  situated,  which  was  to  him  the 
 Mecca  of  many  a  pilgrimage  when  body  and  brain  and 
 soul  cried  out  for  rest.  The  curious  mixture  in  the  mind 
 of  Dr.  Arnold  of  conservatism  with  radicalism  made  his 
 early  attempts  at  reform   in  the  school,  appear  chaotic 
 
254  UNIVERSITY    OF  MISSOUKI. 
 
 and  illy  considered.  Since  he  was  always  ready  to  re- 
 ceive and  entertain  suggestions  as  to  the  means  of  meet- 
 ing difficulties,  his  system  hail  a  certain  external  fluidity, 
 if  we  may  use  that  term,  which  was,  to  the  casual  ob- 
 server, misleading;  he  had,  however,  a  touchstone  for 
 all  methods  and  expedients  in  the  great  underlying  pur- 
 pose of  his  administration.  His  hope  was  to  make  of 
 these  boys,  who  represented  the  next  generation  of  up- 
 holders of  the  national  honor,  Christian  gentlemen,  men 
 who  should  have  such  clearness  of-  intellect  as  to  discern 
 the  right,  such  moral  cultivation  that  they  would  prefer 
 right  to  wrong  from  taste  as  well  as  conviction,  and  such 
 courage,  that  they  would  be  ready  to  defend  what  they 
 believed  the  cause  of  truth  and  justice  even  with  their 
 lives.  Of  course,  in  a  school  as  large  as  Rugby, — num- 
 bering from  two  hundred  and  fifty  to  three  hundred 
 boys, — there  were  many  who  could  not,  or  would  not 
 answer  to  appeals  made  from  any  views  of  life  so  seri- 
 ous, and  it  was  the  practice  of  the  new  head  master  to 
 remove  quietly  all  whose  presence  was  detrimental  to 
 the  school  at  large  or  who  were  themselves,  for  what- 
 ever reason,  incapable  of  being  improved.  So  ready 
 and  accurate  was  his  judgment  of  boyish  character  that 
 his  predictions  with  reference  to  the  youths  under  his 
 care  were  in  most  instances  amply  justified.  He  was 
 accustomed  to  advise  the  parents  of  the  boys  sent  away 
 as  to  the  course  most  likely,  in  his  view,  to  prove  bene- 
 ficial, the  result  often  proving  the  justice  of  his  conclu- 
 sions. Expulsion  from  the  school  was  a  last  resort  in 
 the  case  of  hardened  offenders.  His  plan  could  not, 
 however,  escape  misrepresentation  and  was  aftci  ivard 
 made  the  basis  of  malignant  abuse  of  the  Rugby  system. 
 In  the  students  of  the  higher  classes  especially,  it 
 was  the  desire  of  the   head  master  to  cultivate  a  strong: 
 
LECTURE   OF   PROF.    ORACE   C.    BIBB.  255 
 
 sense  of  responsibility  for  the  general  welfare  and  pro- 
 gress of  the  school;  this  he,  however,  accomplished  as 
 much  as  possible  by  indirection  and  the  youth  in  whom 
 the  feeling  was  strongest  was  frequently  the  last  to  sus- 
 pect the  source  of  the  inspiration  which  had  breathed 
 upon  and  renewed  his  spiritual  life.  The  author  of 
 "School  Days  at  Rugby"  illustrates  this  admirably  in 
 the  conversation  of  his  hero  with  one  of  the  masters 
 held  on  the  eve  of  "Tom"'s  departure,  which  thus  con- 
 cludes: 
 
 "It  was  a  new  light  to  him  to  find  that  besides  teaching  the 
 Sixth  and  governing  and  guiding  the  whole  6chool,  editing  clas- 
 sics and  writing  histories,  the  great  Head  Master  had  found  time 
 in  those  busy  years  to  watch  over  the  career,  even  of  him,  Tom 
 Brown  and  his  particular  friends, — and  no  doubt  of  filty  other 
 boys  at  the  same  time,  and  all  this  without  taking  the  least  credit 
 to  himself,  or  seeming  to  know,  or  let  any  one  else  know,  that  he 
 ever  thought  particularly  of  any  boy  at  all." 
 
 The  direct  influence  of  Arnold  was  exerted  only 
 upon  the  sixth  form,  which  as  I  have  already  said,  was 
 the  highest,  but,  since  he  was  extremely  careful  in  the 
 selection  of  his  assistants,  and  encouraged  each  to  stand 
 as  nearly  as  possible  in  such  relation  to  the  boys  under 
 his  immediate  supervision  as  he  himself  stood  to  the 
 school  at  large,  exerting  a  similar  influence  and  striving 
 for  similar  results,  his  spirit  pervaded  the  atmosphere  of 
 the  place  and  gave  tone  to  the  entire  work. 
 
 As  a  teacher  in  the  presence  of  his  class  the  efforts 
 of  Dr.  Arnold  seem  to  have  been  mainly  directed  to  the 
 cultivation  in  his  pupils  of  self  reliance  and  of  intellec- 
 tual integrity ;  he  was  skillful  in  his  use  of  questions 
 and  in  developing  the  unknown  from  the  known,  in 
 leading  the  boys  to  discover  for  themselves  the  necessary 
 connection  of  events  and  the  inter-dependence  of  facts, 
 in  rousing  desire  to  know  causes  and  to  express  thought 
 
256  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 logically.  He  worked,  as  it  were,  with  the  boys  asking 
 information  freely  from  them  on  any  subject  not  within 
 his  own  immediate  range,  never  assuming  any  special 
 superiority  of  manner  or  any  profundity  of  scholarship, 
 but  impressing  at  once  by  the  quiet  natural  dignity 
 which  needed  no  adventitious  support,  and  by  the 
 treasures  of  knowledge  from  which  he  drew  that  abund- 
 ant illustration  which  gave  to  his  lectures,  particularly 
 in  history,  so  vivid  an  interest.  The  chapel  services 
 were  almost  the  only  occasions  afforded  him  of  reaching 
 the  entire  school;  how  he  exercised  this  power  the 
 author  of  "School  Days  at  Rugby"  himself  a  Rugby 
 boy  and  "great  part"  of  that  which  he  describes  has  told 
 us  in  his  own  graphic  way  and  has  dwelt  with  loving 
 recollections  on  "The  oak  pulpit  standing  out  by  itself 
 above  the  school  seats.  The  tall  gallant  form,  the  kind- 
 ling eye,  the  voice  now  soft  as  the  low  notes  of  a  flute, 
 now  clear  and  stirring  as  the  call  of  the  light  infantry 
 bu^le,  of  him  who  stood  there  Sunday  after  Sunday 
 witnessing  and  pleading  for  his  Lord  the  King  of 
 righteousness  and  love  and  glory,  with  whose  spirit  he 
 was  filled,  and  in  whose  power  he  spoke.  The  long 
 lines  of  young  faces  rising  tier  above  tier  down  the 
 whole  length  of  the  chapel,"  and  of  the  "soft-twilight" 
 which  stole  over  all  and  deepened  "into  darkness  in  the 
 high  gallery  behind  the  organ."  He  has  told  us  too  how 
 these  bovs  "listened  as  all  boys  in  their  better  moods 
 will  listen"  and  how  "wearily  and  little  by  little,  but 
 surely  and  steadily,  on  the  whole,  was  brought  home  to 
 the  young  boy  for  the  first  time,  the  meaning  of  his  life; 
 that  it  was  no  fool's  or  sluggard's  paradise  into  which  he 
 had  wandered  by  chance,  but  a  battle  field,  ordained 
 from  of  old,  where  there  are  no  spectators,  but  the 
 youngest  must  take  his  side,  and  the  stakes  are  life  and 
 
LECTURE    OF     PROF.    GRACE    C.    BIBB.  257 
 
 death,  and  "[he  who  roused  this  consciousness  in  them 
 showed  them  at  the  same  time  by  every  word  he  spoke 
 in  the  pulpit  and  by  his  whole  daily  life,  how  the  battle 
 was  to  be  fought  and  stood  there  before  them  their  fel- 
 low-soldier and  the  captain  of  their  band." 
 
 Thehead-mastership  of  Arnold  continued  for  four- 
 teen years — years  not  undisturbed  by  calumny  and  mis- 
 representation, but  yet,  full  of  that  deep  underlying 
 peace  which  consciousness  of  duty  well  and  faithfully 
 performed  must  bring  to  heroic  souls.  The  strenuous 
 zeal  of  Dr.  Arnold  for  what  he  believed  to  be  the  truth 
 led  to  a  heated  controversy  with  the  High  Church  party 
 which  was,  indirectly,  the  cause  of  most  persistent  and 
 outrageous  personal  attack  upon  him  through  the  me- 
 dium of  the  press,  and  although  he  made  no  public  allu- 
 sion thereto  nor  noticed  the  slanders  thus  set  in  circula- 
 tion, he  could  not  help  but  feel  unhappiriess,  especially  as 
 he  found  himself  ostracised  for  his  opinions,  by  many  of 
 his  former  friends.  Confident  of  the  justice  of  his  cause 
 he,  through  all,  went  on  steadily  with  his  work,  and  as 
 steadily  the  purity  and  strength  of  his  character  grew 
 into  appreciation,  until,  in  the  later  years  of  his  Rugby 
 residence,  he  had  gained  the  entire  respect  and  admira- 
 tion of  even  his  former  adversaries. 
 
 In  1S41  he  was  appointed  "Regins  Professor  of 
 Modern  History"  at  the  University  of  Oxford,  the  com- 
 pliment of  his  election  being  greatly  enhanced  in  value 
 by  reason  of  his  late  controversy  with  the  Oxford  party 
 in  Church  and  State.  No  work  could  have  been  more 
 entirely  accordant  to  Dr.  Arnold's  taste  than  that  which 
 opened  before  him  in  this  professorship,  and  he  did  not 
 hesitate  at  once  to  accept  it;  but  as  his  duties  would  not 
 require  residence  he  determined  to  retain,  at  least  for  a 
 time,  Ins  place  at  Rugby,  devoting  the   Oxford  salary  to 
 
258  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 the  foundation  of  university  scholarships.  His  inaug- 
 ural lecture  was  delivered  in  December  of  the  same  year, 
 and  treated,  as  we  learn  from  his  correspondence,  "of 
 the  several  parts  of  history  generally  and  their  relations 
 to  each  other  and  then  of  the  peculiarities  of  modern 
 history."  The  occasion  was  naturally  of  the  greatest  in- 
 terest and  the  audience  was  very  large,  their  accommoda- 
 tion rendering  necessary  the  opening  of  the  "Theatre." 
 Arnold  had,  without  yielding  in  any  way  his  con- 
 victions, conquered  a  triumphant  peace,  and  in  the  light 
 of  her  full  recognition,  whatever  might  at  any  time 
 have  alienated  him  from  his  alma  mater  faded  away, 
 leaving  his  return  to  the  jilace  he  had  so  long  and  so 
 deeply  loved  unclouded  by  either  doubts  or  regrets.  So 
 with  thankfulness  and  joy  of  heart  he  entered  upon  the 
 duties  of  that  office  which  had  from  afar  brightened  be- 
 fore him  as  the  noblest  goal  of  his  ambition.  Not  yet 
 forty-seven  years  of  age,  in  the  full  flush  and  vigor  of 
 his  manhood;  looking  back  upon  patient,  strenuous  and 
 successful  effort  in  a  cause  which  seemed  to  him  the  no- 
 blest to  whose  defence  any  man  is  called ;  looking  for- 
 ward to  a  new  epoch  in  the  work  of  his  life  in  which  it 
 should  more  than  ever  be  his  task  to  call  up  from  their 
 tombs  the  heroic  dead  of  all  time  that  their  examples 
 might  mould  to  something  like  heroism  the  age  in  which 
 he  lived,  looking  forward  still  beyond  to  that  blessed  re- 
 tirement at  "Fox  How,"  where,  surrounded  by  his  fam- 
 ily, soothed  and  animated  by  the  natural  beauty  of  all  the 
 local  associations  he  might  pass  in  peaceful  literary  la- 
 bors the  evening  of  his  days,  he  seemed  of  the  fortu- 
 nate most  fortunate.  Surely  auspicious  deities  beckoned 
 him  onward,  holding  out  to  him  the  gift  of  happy 
 days  or  whatever  gift  greater  than  happy  days  they 
 offer  to  mortals.     Cicero,   in  that  one  of  his    Tusculan 
 
LECTURE   OF    PROF.   GRACE   C.   BIBB.  259 
 
 Disputatious  written  "On  the  Contempt  of  Death" 
 quotes  two  well  known  stories  told  by  the  Greeks,  the 
 one  of  Cleobis  and  Biton,  sons  of  the  Argive  priest- 
 ess, the  other  of  Trophonius  and  Agamedes.  The 
 priestess  mother  of  the  youths  "is  said  to  have  entreated 
 the  goddess  to  bestow  on  them  as  a  reward  for  their 
 filial  piety,  the  greatest  gift  that  a  god  could  confer 
 on  man,  and  the  young  men,  having  feasted  with  their 
 mother,  fell  asleep;  and  in  the  morning  they  were  found 
 dead."  Trophonius  and  Agamedes  made  a  similar  re- 
 quest "for  they  having  built  a  temple  to  Apollo  at  Del- 
 phi offered  supplications  to  the  God  *  *  *  asking  for 
 whatever  was  best  for  men.  Accordingly  Apollo  signi- 
 fied to  them  that  he  would  bestow  it  on  them  in  three 
 days,  and  on  the  third  day  at  daybreak  they  were  found 
 dead."  Was  it  the  be9t  gift  of  the  gods  to  Arnold  of 
 Rugby  that  he  too,  when  most  the  favorite  of  fortune, 
 when  most  entitled  to  claim  the  future  as  his  own,  should 
 also,  in  the  old  heathen  phrase,  "at  daybreak"  have  been 
 "found  dead  ?" 
 
 It  was  on  the  morning  of  Sunday,  June  12th,  1842; 
 the  preceding  Saturday  had  closed  the  year  at  Rugby; 
 in  all  the  attendant  exercises  the  head  master  had  taken 
 his  usual  lively  interest — in  the  school  speeches,  in  the 
 visit  of  the  board  of  examiners,  in  the  work  of  the 
 fifth  form.  He  had  distributed  the  prizes  and  preach- 
 ed the  final  sermon;  he  had  closed  his  New  Testament 
 lectures  with  a  dissertation  on  those  words  of  the  apostle 
 which  were  to  prove  themselves  prophetic:  "It  doth  not 
 appear  what  we  shall  be;  but  we  know  that  when  He 
 shall  appear  we  shall  be  like  Him  for  we  shall  see  Him 
 as  he  is."  At  the  supper  given  in  farewell  to  the  sixth 
 form  on  Saturday  evening  no  one  had  been  more 
 cheerful  or  more  hopeful  than  Arnold,  no  one  seemed  to 
 
260  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 hold  more  firmly  to  life.  Then  the  labors  of  the  whole 
 year  over,  lessons  recited,  sermons  preached,  prizes  dis- 
 tributed, the  great  head  master  of  Rugby  lay  down  to 
 his  last  sleep.  Very  early  on  Sunday  morning  he  was 
 roused  by  a  sharp  pain  in  his  chest  which  increased  con- 
 stantly in  its  intensity.  The  destroyer  of  his  father's  life 
 claimed  his  also.  Medical  skill  could  do  nothing  to  re- 
 lieve his  suffering;  affection  was  powerless  to  hold  him 
 to  the  earth  and  at  eight  o'clock  he  was  dead.  Only 
 the  day  before  the  boys  of  the  school  had  seen  him  in 
 their  midst,  the  life  and  soul  of  the  place,  now  already 
 he  was  become  only  a  memory ;  imagine  their  conster- 
 nation, their  grief,  as  they  attempted  to  realize  that  the 
 "captain  of  their  band"  had  in  the  very  hour  of  victory 
 fainted  under  the  burden  of  life  and  of  the  flesh,  and 
 had  gone  forth  with  the  waning  night,  "A  lone  soul  to 
 the  lone  God." 
 
 As  was  preeminently  fitting,  Arnold  was  buried  in. 
 the  chapel  which  had  so  often  re-echoed  his  words  of 
 wisdom,  of  encouragement  and  of  consolation,  and  there 
 was  erected  to  his  memory  the  monument  which  repret 
 sents  the  common  desire  of  men  of  all  parties  and  all 
 sects  to  do  him  reverence. 
 
 It  were  indeed  a  task  most  idle  were  I  to  attempt 
 description  of  the  sorrow  which  his  death  caused,  not  to 
 the  Rugby  boys  alone,  not  to  his  family  and  friends- 
 merely  but  to  the  great  host  of  boys  as  well,  who  now 
 become  men  and  filling  their  various  places  in  the  world 
 with  less  or  more  honor,  looked  back  to  Rugby  as  to 
 the  place  in  which  they  were  first  taught  to  realize  the 
 true  value  of  life,  for  these  there  had  indeed  with  him, 
 "passed  away  a  glory  from  the  earth." 
 
 The  life  of  Arnold  more  almost  than  that  of  any 
 other  man  of  our  times  must  be   estimated  as   a  whole; 
 
LECTURE   OF   PROF.   GRACE   C.   BIBB.  261 
 
 not  as  that  of  a  teacher  though  instruction  was  his  de- 
 light; not  as  that  of  a  student  though  every  day  added  to 
 the  rich  treasures  of  his  knowledge;  not  as  that  of  a 
 clergyman  though  his  chaplaincy  was  a  veritable  cure  of 
 souls,  not  as  that  of  husband  and  father  though  no  do- 
 mestic life  was  ever  happier;  not  as  that  of  Regins  Pro- 
 fessor at  Oxford,  though  here  he  found  the  crowning 
 glory  of  his  ambition,  but  as  that  of  a  man,  most  worthy 
 to  be  thus  designated,  embracing  all  these  as  its  mo- 
 ments, and  hence,  more  than  that  of  any  contemporary, 
 "a  living  epistle  known  and  read  of  all  men,"  since  it  is 
 after  all,  character  which  acts  on  character,  spirit  which 
 responds  to  spirit  throughout  the  Universe.  The  eter- 
 nal principle  in  humanity,  that  by  which  it  is  allied  to 
 the  Creator  recognizes  its  spiritual  kinship  with  what- 
 ever of  the  same  divine  spirit  may  be  found  in  man. 
 How  Arnold's  spirit  made  itself  a  power,  what  aspira- 
 tions ennobled,  what  weak  hands  strengthened  what 
 souls  saved  who  can  tell  us  more  feelingly  or  more  faith- 
 fully than  his  gifted  son  when  he  says: 
 
 "Thou  would'st  not  alone 
 Be  saved,  my  father!  alone 
 Conquer  and  come  to  thy  goal, 
 Leaving  the  rest  in  the  wild. 
 We  were  weary,  and  we 
 Fearful,  and  we  in  our  march 
 Fain  to  drop  down  and  to  die. 
 Still  thou  turnedst,  and  still 
 Beckoncdst  the  trembler,  and  still 
 Gavest  the  weary  thy  hand, 
 If,  in  the  paths  of  the  world, 
 Stones  might  have  wounded  thy  feet, 
 Toil  or  dejection  have  tried 
 Thy  spirit,  of  that'we  saw 
 Nothing — to  ui  thou  wast  still 
 Cheerful,  and  helpfwl,  and  firm! 
 
262  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 Therefore  to  thee  it  was  given 
 Many  to  save  with  thyself; 
 And,  at  the  end  of  thy  day, 
 O  faithful  shepherd!  to  come, 
 Bringing  thy  sheep  in  thy  hand. 
 
 And  through  thee  I  believe 
 In  the  noble  and  great  who  are  gone ; 
 Pure  souls  honor'd  and  blest 
 By  former  ages,  who  else- 
 Such,  so  soulless,  so  poor, 
 Is  the  race  of  men  whom  I  see — 
 Seemed  but  a  dream  of  the  heart, 
 Seem'd  but  a  cry  of  desire. 
 Yes!  I  believe  that  there  lived 
 Others  like  thee  in  the  past, 
 Not  like  the  men  of  the  crowd, 
 Who  all  round  me  to-day 
 Bluster  or  cringe,  and  make  life 
 Hideous,  and  arid,  and  vile; 
 But  souls  tempered  with  fire, 
 Fervent,  heroic  and  good, 
 Helpers  and  friends  of  mankind."' 
 
THE      PROFESSIONAL     SCHOOL      IN     THE 
 AMERICAN  UNIVERSITY. 
 
 By  Thomas  Jefferson  Lowry,  S.  M.,  C.  E.,  Pro- 
 fessor of  Civil  and  Topographical  Engineer- 
 ing, and  Dean  of  Engineering  Faculty,  in  the 
 University  of  the  State  of  Missouri. 
 
 The  changes  which  discovery  and  invention  have, 
 within  this  century,  wrought  in  the  life  of  society  and 
 the  nation  are  amazing.  The  gas-jet  has  taken  the 
 place  of  the  tallow  candle,  and  the  telegraph,  telephone, 
 and  phonograph  that  of  the  post.  But  steam  and  the 
 multiplication  of  machinery  have  been  the  most  far- 
 reaching  in  their  effects, — they  have  revolutionized  every 
 industry  of  our  country.  Every  labor-saving  machine 
 invented  and  adopted  throws  thousands  out  of  employ- 
 ment; and  crying  distresses  unavoidably  characterize 
 these  violent  social  changes.  In  ameliorating  the  con- 
 dition of  the  unemployed  we  are  obviously  reduced  to 
 this  dilemma:  Either,  the  wheels  of  discovery  and  in- 
 vention must  be  blocked,  or,  our  affairs  and  social  condi- 
 tions must  be  adjusted  to  those  new  circumstances.  The 
 progress  of  our  civilization  demands  that  the  first  shall 
 not  be  done,  and,  hence,  society  must  adjust  itself  to  this 
 new  order  of  things.  It  is  a  fixed  fact  in  our  civilization 
 that  nature's  forces  have  been  subjugated  to  our  needs, — 
 
264  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 by  it  we  kave  grown  as  a  nation  to  what  we  are,  and  it 
 now  underlies  our  whole  existence.  And  despite  the 
 howls  of  ignorance,  and  fanatic  opposition  of  red-handed 
 communism,  steam  and  wind  and  gravity  and  electricity 
 will  continue  to  nerve  the  untiring  arms  of  machinery  in 
 working  for  man ;  thereby  forcing  him  on  to  a  hio-her 
 plane  of  existence,  and  giving  the  common  laborer  com- 
 forts which,  a  few  centuries  ago,  kings  could  not  pur- 
 chase. 
 
 Seeing  then  that  a  readjustment  of  vocations  is  ne- 
 cessitated by  the  perpetual  elimination,  by  labor-saving 
 machinery,  of  the  great  multitude  of  least  intelligent  and 
 least  versatile  laborers,  we  ask  "what  are  the  remedies?" 
 
 Obviously,  they  are:   ist  migration. 
 
 2nd.  Education  of  the  people  to  versatility.  Mi- 
 gration is  necessary  and  desirable  under  all  circumstances. 
 Large  numbers  of  people  cast  on  shore  by  the  fluctua- 
 tions of  mechanic  industry,  must  seek  homes  on  the 
 border  land.  The  continuous  circulation  thus  kept  up 
 between  the  centre  and  circumference  of  our  country,  is 
 a  national  tonic.  It  is  the  great  available  means  of  pres- 
 ent readjustment  of  vocations.  It  says  to  the  citizen  who 
 falls  out  of  the  line  of  productive  industry:  "Go  to  the 
 foot  of  the  line  and  begin  again.  Engage  in  the  excit- 
 ing task  of  building  up  civilization  in  an  empty  wilder- 
 ness and  you  and  your  children  shall  thrive  once  more." 
 But,  migration  does  not  completely   solve  the  problem; 
 
 for,  migration  itself  presupposes  versatility.  Thus,  the 
 question  recurs,  with  redoubled  force,  what  will  give  this 
 versatility  ?  All  agree  on  the  general  answer — Educa- 
 tion. But,  as  to  the  kind  of  education  there  are  three 
 theories,  differing  either,  in  methods,  or  aims,  or  both. 
 
 The  aim  of  the  first  of  these  is  the  perfection  of  the 
 individual,  and  its  method  is  mental  gymnastics,  in  the 
 pursuit  of  truth. 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    LOWKY,  265 
 
 The  aim  of  the  second  is  the  conservation,  improve- 
 ment, and  transmission  of  our  civilization,  and  the  method 
 it  employs  is  possessing  ourselves  of  truth. 
 
 The  third  employs  the  methods  of  the  first,  as  pre- 
 paratives, for  compassing  the  aims  of  the  second. 
 
 The  first  is  the  ancient,  the  second  is  the  rational, 
 and  the  third  is  the  traditional  system..  One  or  the 
 other  of  these  theories  has  shaped  the  curriculum  of  ev- 
 ery English  and  American  college,  and  now  presides 
 over  its  educational  efforts.  The  first  of  these  we  find 
 i  embodied  in  the  English  Universities;  the  third,  in  those 
 of  our  colleges  which  are  of  English  parentage  and 
 model;  and,  the  second,  in  those  of  our  Universities 
 which  are  the  necessary  outgrowths  of  American  civili- 
 zation— prominent  among  which  are  Virginia,  Cornell, 
 Michigan,  Missouri,  and  John  Hopkins. 
 
 The  problem  before  us  now  is  to  determine  which 
 Of  these  systems  furnishes  the  most  direct  proximate 
 means  of  attaining  versatility.  The  ancient  system 
 views  man  as  an  end  unto  himself,  ignores  the  necessity 
 — admitedly  makes  no  pretentions  to  qualify — for  exer- 
 cising any  trade,  calling,  or  profession,  and  hence,  has  no 
 claim  on  our  attention  in  this  inquiry.  Now  the  tradi- 
 tional and  the  rational  systems  agree  that  the  great  end 
 of  all  culture  is  preparation  for  the  activities  of  life;  they 
 differ  only  in  the  methods  employed  for  attaining  this 
 end.  The  traditional  system  says,  learn  first  the  useless 
 fact  B  to  get  the  discipline  necessary  to  acquire  the  useful 
 fact  C;  while  the  rational  system  ignores  useless  B  and 
 attacks  C  at  once,  making  it  serve  both  for  knowledge 
 and  discipline.  Now,  since  it  costs  as  much  effort  to 
 learn  a  useless  fact  as  a  useful  one,  it  is  obvious,  that,  by 
 that  method,  half  the  mental  power  is  wasted,  and  by 
 this  method  there  is  none.     In  the  vicarious  discipline  of 
 
266  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 that  method,  a  certain  amount  of  the  plastic  force  of  the 
 system  is  used  up,  and  is,  therefore,  not  available  for 
 other  purposes.  This,  is  the  extra  mental  cost  of  the  tra- 
 ditional system  for  which  we  have  to  show  an  equivalent 
 in  solid  advantages,  either  in  knowledge  or  discipline,  for 
 the  activities  of  life,  or  it  will  be  forced,  on  the  score  of 
 economy,  to  give  way  to  the  rational  system.  Now,  in. 
 what  do  the  traditional  and  rational  curricula  differ  as 
 to  subject  matter  (knowledge)?  Essentially  this:  that 
 the  six  years  work  in  the  classics  of  that  system  is,  in 
 this  one,  replaced  by  two  years  in  the  modern  languages 
 and  four  years  in  the  natural  sciences  and  the  applied 
 mathematics.  It  is  admitted  that  these  modern  languages- 
 — French  and  German — yield  discipline,  at  least,  equal 
 to  the  classics.  And  what  is  incomparably  of  greater 
 value,  they  reveal  those  thoughts,  those  mind  processes, 
 those  instruments  which  have  revolutionized  the  condi- 
 tion of  our  existence,  and  which  are  even  now  the  ad- 
 vance guards  in  the  march  of  (modern)  civilization* 
 When  we  consider  that  these  fields  of  thought  and  re- 
 search were  to  the  classics,  and  are  now  to  the  classicists* 
 dream-land,  how  ludicrous  appears  the  assumption  that 
 the  classics  furnish  knowledge  and  discipline  equal  to 
 that  of  the  modern  languages,  for  giving  versatility  in 
 life's  activities.  And  it  does  not  admit  of  intelligent 
 question  that  it  is  the  natural  sciences  and  the  applied 
 mathematics  which  furnish  the  mainsprings  of  our  ma- 
 terial prosperity,  supply  the  truths  indispensible  to  pro- 
 ductive activity  in  any  of  the  industries.  Now,  in  fact, 
 the  value  of  a  knowledge  of  the  classics,  on  the  ground 
 of  the  information  exclusively  contained  in  Latin  and 
 Greek  authors,  lias  steadily  decreased  as  the  number  of 
 good  translations  from  them  have  increased.  In  this 
 progressive  decrease  a  point  has  been  reached  where  the 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    LOWRY.  267 
 
 residuum  of  valuable  information  still  locked  up  in  the 
 classics,  does  not  justify  the  efforts  necessarily  expended 
 in  acquiring  these  languages.  It  is  true  that  there  are 
 certain  artistic  effects  in  literary  composition,  and  pecu- 
 liar subtleties  of  thought  in  the  moral  and  metaphysical 
 sciences  which  are  untranslatable;  and  that  the  peculiar 
 aroma  of  classical  poetry,  is  incommunicable,  yet  if  a 
 man  is  conversant  with  the  best  translations,  he  cannot 
 be  far  from  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  When  the  advo- 
 cates of  the  traditional  system  were  made  to  see  that  the 
 price  to  be  paid  for  these  untranslatables  and  incommu- 
 nicables  of  the  classics,  was  no  less  a  labor  than  the  com- 
 plete acquisition  of  the  Latin  and  Greek  languages;  and 
 were  shown  the  living  truths  which  the  same  amount  of 
 labor  would  have  gathered  in  the  fields  of  modern 
 thought  aud  research;  and  were  reminded  of  the  fact 
 that  every  industrial  pursuit  is  steeped  in  science;  and 
 were  forced  to  recognize  that  there  is  not  a  fact  or  prin- 
 ciple in  the  whole  compass  of  physical  science,  or  in  the 
 arts  and  practices  of  life,  that  is  not  fully  expressed  in  ev- 
 ery civilized  modern  language,  they  reluctantly  yielded 
 the  point  of  the  usefulness  of  the  knowledge  in  the 
 classics  for  attaining  versatility ;  and  took  their  stand  on 
 the  proposition,  that  the  classical  languages  train  the 
 mind  for  the  activities  of  life  as  nothing  else  does. 
 
 Now,  determined  as  it  fe,  that  the  truths  of  modern 
 science  are  of  more  worth  than  those  in  the  classics, 
 for  guidance  and  use  in  the  activities  of  life,  it  remains 
 to  judge  of  the  relative  values  of  these  two  knowledges 
 for  purposes  of  training  for  these  activities.  We  may 
 be  quite  sure,  says  the  great  philosopher,  Spencer,  that 
 the  acquirement  of  those  classes  of  facts,  which  are  most 
 useful  in  the  arts  and  practices  of  life,  involves  a  mental 
 exercise  best  fitting  for  life's  activities.     It   would  be  ut- 
 
268  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 terly  contrary  to  the  beautiful  economy  of  nature  if  one 
 kind  of  culture  were  needed  for  the  gaining  of  informa- 
 tion and  another  kind  needed  as  a  mental  gymnastic. 
 Everywhere,  throughout  creation,  we  find  faculties  de- 
 veloped through  the  performance  of  those  functions 
 which  it  is  their  office  to  perform;  not  through  the  per- 
 formance of  artificial  exercises  devised  to  fit  them  for 
 these  functions.  The  red  Indian  acquires  the  swiftness 
 and  agility  which  make  him  a  successful  hunter  by  the 
 actual  pursuit  of  animals.  By  the  miscellaneous  activi- 
 ties of  farm  life  the  farmer  gains  a  better  balance  of 
 physical  powers  than  gymnastics  ever  give.  '  The  same 
 law  holds  throughout  education.  The  education  of  most 
 value  tor  guidance  must,  at  the  same  time,  be  the  edu- 
 cation of  most  value  for  discipline.  Now  the  evidence. 
 The  advantages  claimed  for  language  learning  are: 
 First,  it  strengthens  the  memory.  True;  but  the  sciences 
 of  Physics,  Chemistry,  Geology,  Mineralogy,  Botany 
 and  Astronomy  afford  far  wider  and  richer  fields  for  the 
 exercise  of  memory.  Now  mark  that  while  for  the 
 training  of  mere  memory,  science  is  as  good  as,  if  not 
 better  than,  language;  it  has  an  immense  superiority  in 
 the  kind  of  memory  it  cultivates.  In  the  acquirement  of 
 a  language,  the  connections  of  the  ideas  to  be  established 
 in  the  mind  correspond  to  facts  which  are  in  a  great 
 measure  accidental;  whereas,  in  the  acquirement  of 
 science,  the  connections  of  ideas  to  be  established  in  the 
 mind  correspond  to  facts  that  are  mostly  necessary. 
 Unless — as  is  commonly  not  true — the  natural  relations 
 between  words  and  their  meanings  are  explained,  then 
 language  learning  gives  fortuitous  relations.  The  rela- 
 tions which  science  presents  are  causal  relations;  instead 
 ■of  being  practically  accidental,  they  are  necessary; 
 and,  as  such,  exercise  the  reasoning  faculties.     Language 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    LOWRY.  269 
 
 familiarizes  with  non-rational  relations,  science  familiar- 
 izes with  rational  relations.  That  one,  exercises  mem- 
 ory only;  this  one,  exercises  both  memory  and  under- 
 standing. 
 
 The  translation  exercise  cultivates -inventive  power, 
 — but  it  is  only  a  power  to  arrange  words,  and  not  a 
 power  of  marshaling  scientific  truths  and  principles  for 
 meeting  (solving)  the  difficulties  arising  in  the  activities 
 of  life.  By  converting  the  mind  into  a  kaleidoscope  of 
 words,  it  gives  only  such  an  inventive  power  as  is  needed 
 to  solve  riddles  and  conundrums. 
 
 Bain  says,  "  that  all  experience  shows  that  only  very 
 inferior  English  composition  is  the  result  of  translating 
 from  Latin  or  Greek  into  English.  And,  that  the  study 
 of  the  classics  is  devoid  of  interest;  and  what  makes  it 
 tolerable  is  the  large  devotion  of  time  to  the  themes  of 
 universal  interest — personal  and  sensation  narrative." 
 Certain  it  is,  however,  that  these  languages  become  parts 
 of  a  rational  curriculum  only  when  "  taught,  not  merely  as 
 gymnastics,  but  as  embodiments  of  food  for  the  soul," 
 as  in  the  Missouri  University. 
 
 It  is  reprehensible  to  delude  the  student  with  the 
 fallacies,  that  through  a  scheme  of  aimless  exercises  (in 
 the  classics)  for  discipline  mental  power  may  be  accumu- 
 lated for  universal  application,  and  that  the  aseful  truths 
 needed,  will  be  gathered  by  the  wayside,  with  little  ef- 
 fort, out  in  active  life.  It  is  not  a  fact,  that  the  vitalizing 
 truths  in.  any  department  of  human  thought,  hang  around 
 us  like  apples  on  a  tree,  to  be  gathered  with  little  effort. 
 There  is  no  such  thing  as  getting  possession  of  truths  "  by 
 throwing  salt  on  their  tails."  Gaining  possession  of  the 
 truths  of  the  useful  sciences  means  mental  exercise  more 
 varied,  vigorous,  protracted,  and  exhilarating  than  any  to 
 be  found  in  the  pursuit  of  the  classics;  it  means  more: — 
 
270  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 nourishment  for  the  mind, — food  tor  the  soul.  The  pur- 
 suit of  truth  exercises  and  disciplines  the  mind;  but  it  is 
 truth  possessed — digested  and  assimilated — which  nour- 
 ishes and  strengthens  the  mind.  The  pursuit  of  the 
 classics,  failing  to  impart  vitalizing  truths,  enfeebles  while 
 it  exercises  and  disciplines  the  mind.  The  pursuit  of  the 
 truths  of  science  exercises  and  disciplines,  while  their 
 possession  enlightens,  nourishes,  strengthens,  and  ener- 
 gizes the  mind.  The  classics  stimulate  to  imitation;  the 
 sciences  stimulate  to  individuality.  Those  give  the  stu- 
 dent to  antiquity;  these  give  him  to  himself.  The  classics 
 make  hero  worshipers;  science  makes  heroes. 
 
 The  dogmatic  teachings  of  the  classics  engender  blind 
 faith  in  authorities,  and  thus  smother  out  independent 
 thought  and  inquiry .  Science,  by  revealing  the  causal 
 relations  of  the  facts  and  phenomena  of  nature,  arms  and 
 stimulates  the  mind  to  independent  inquiry  and  research; 
 and,  thus,  fosters  independence, — that  most  valuable  ele- 
 ment in  character, — that  essence  of  true  manhood. 
 
 "I  tell  you  there  is  something  splendid  in  that  young  man 
 who  will  not  always  mind.  Why,  if  we  had  done  as  the  kings 
 told  us  five  hundred  years  ago,  we  would  all  have  been  slaves.  If 
 we  had  done  as  the  old  school  doctors  told  us  we  would  all  have 
 been  dead.  If  we  had  done  as  our  antiquated  classical  teachers 
 told  us,  we  would  have  all  been  mental  imbeciles.  We  have  been 
 saved  by  disobedience;  we  have  been  saved  by  that  splendid  thing 
 called  independence,  and  I  want  to  see  more  of  it,  day  after  day, 
 and  I  want  to  see  children  raised  up  so  they  will  have  it.  Give 
 the  children  a  chance  for  success.  Don't  try  to  teach  them  some- 
 thing they  can  never  learn.  Don't  insist  upon  their  pursuing  some 
 calling  they  have  no  sort  of  taste  or  talent  for.  Don't  make  that 
 poor  girl  play  ten  years  on  a  piano  when  she  has  no  ear  for 
 music,  and  when  she  has  practiced  until  she  can  play  'Bonaparte 
 Crossing  the  Alps,'  and  you  can't  tell  after  she  has  played  it 
 whether  Bonaparte  ever  got  across  or  not." 
 
 Individuality  is  the  soul  of  success.     The  men  who 
 
LECTURE    OF    PKOF.    LOWEY.  271 
 
 achieve  the  greatest  successes  out  in  real  life,  are  those 
 who  bristle  all  over  with  individuality.  Common  sense 
 then  clearly  points  to  those  educational  facilities  which 
 insure  the  freest  and  fullest  development  of  individuality, 
 as  the  means  most  potent,  in  raising  the  mental  faculties 
 of  childhood  and  boyhood  to  their  highest  degrees  of 
 healthful  capability.  Straight-jackets  for  mind  and  body 
 •are  known,  neither  in  the  family  circle  nor  out  in  busy 
 life.  They  are  instruments  for  crippling  normal  activity, 
 and  are  peculiar  to  the  asylum  and  the  colleges  ancient 
 and  traditional. 
 
 Education  in  the  family  individualizes.  The  intui- 
 tion of  the  mother  detects  the  mental  proclivities  of  the 
 child,  and  nourishes  and  directs  them  in  the  lines  of  their 
 peculiar  activities.  Hence,  we  see  why  so  many  great 
 men  attribute  their  success  to  their  early  home  training; 
 why,  in  the  zenith  of  their  fame,  they  invoke  blessings 
 on  her  who  paved  their  way  to  success.  It  is  she 
 who  so  energizes  the  intellectual  faculties  of  the  child 
 that  no  reasonable  amount  of  the  cramping  and  cram- 
 ming processes  of  our  traditional  colleges  can  wholly 
 paralyze  them.  Yes,  cramp  the  mind  as  you  may,  cor- 
 set it  as  you  will  with  the  curricula  of  these  colleges, 
 yet,  if  not  strained  beyond  the  limit  of  perfect  elasticity, 
 individuality  reasserts  itself,  and  nerves  it  on  to  a  success 
 directly  proportional  to  its  surviving  energies.  But  let 
 the  mind  be  strained  by  a  classical  course  till  it  receives 
 a  permanent  set  Greece-ward  or  Rome-ward,  till  the 
 head  is  charged  with  antiquated  ideas,  till  the  mind  is 
 enervated  by  mumbling  over  the  dry  bones  of  antiquity, 
 and  is  thus  incapacitated  to  resume  its  relation  with  the 
 on-flowing  current  of  events  of  the  age,  then,  the  chances 
 are  high  that  we  will  behold  the  pitiable  spectacle  of  it 
 giving  the  go-by  to  modern  thought  and  knowledge  and 
 
272  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 thinning  down  its  intellectual  life  to  a  languid  sursing  of 
 its  classical  memories.  Seeing  then  that  individuality  is 
 the  inspiring  thought  of  the  educations  received  at  home 
 and  out  in  life,  I  submit,  that  it  should  preside  over  the 
 education  in  college,  in  order  to  make  it  (education)  a 
 continuous  process. 
 
 Disciplining  the  student  in  the  sciences,  gives  a 
 knowledge  of,  and  trains  in  the  use  of,  the  forces,  mate- 
 rials, and  objects  of  nature, — things  which  challenge  his 
 attention  in  boyhood,  and  force  themselves  upon  him  in 
 manhood.  Education  in  the  sciences  is  a  continuation  of 
 the  healthy  plastic  education  of  boyhood,  and  it  flows  on 
 out  into  the  intellectual  life  of  a  productive  manhood. 
 
 The  vicarious  discipline  in  the  classics  not  only  in- 
 volves enormous  waste,  but  it  utterly  ignores  the  fact 
 that,  the  leading  out  of  the  mental  faculties,  which  we 
 call  education,  should  be  a  continuous  process, — begin- 
 ning at  the  cradle  and  ending  at  the  grave.  The  educa- 
 tions received,  Jirst  at  home,  second  at  college,  and  third 
 out  in  busy  life,  are  interdependent,  and  should  hence  be 
 parts  of  one  harmonious  whole.  Now,  our  traditional 
 system  of  education  is  neither  an  outgrowth  of  the 
 proper  education  of  childhood,  nor  does  it  flow  on  into 
 the  intellectual  life  of  manhood;  it  is  a  foreign  body  of 
 thought,  a  cramping,  cramming,  distorting  process,  un- 
 congenial and  unaffiliated,  thrust  into  the  college  period, 
 and  destroying  the  unity  and  continuity  of  the  mental 
 career. 
 
 When  forced  from  the  position  that  the  classics  fur- 
 nish superior  discipline  for  the  activities  of  life,  the  advo- 
 cates of  the  traditional  system  insisted,  as  a  peculiar 
 merit,  that  it  gives  "broad  culture."  Broad  culture!  Ah, 
 yes!  an  expression  which  has  that  amount  of  vagueness 
 about  it  which  makes  it  a  convenient  shelter  for  a  bad 
 
LiKCTURK   OF   PROF.    LOWRY.  273 
 
 case.  That  mind  is  nearest  perfect  (/.  e.  raised  to  its 
 highest  degree  of  healthful  capability)  whose  faculties 
 are  fully  and  harmoniously  developed.  The  traditional 
 colleges  have  erred  in  construing  full  and  harmonious  de- 
 velopment, to  mean  even  development,  and  to  imply  va- 
 ried learning,  or,  as  they  express  it,  in  a  glittering  gen- 
 erality, broad  culture.  On  the  first  blush,  varied  learn- 
 ing would  appear  to  promise  versatility.  If  the  ener- 
 gies of  the  human  mind  were  unlimited,  and  if  mental 
 digestion  was  aot  a  prerequisite  to  mental  assimilation,  i. 
 «.,  ii  knowledge,  merely  acquired,  brought  with  it  the 
 power  to  apply  it,  then  we  could  go  on  indefinitely  in- 
 flating the  mind  with  varied  learning,  and  thereby  secure 
 versatility  ad  infinitum. 
 
 Knowledge  is  valuable  only  as  it  energizes,  or  as  it 
 can  be  used;  but  it  energizes,  and  can  be  tinned  to  prac- 
 tical account  only  in  proportion  as  it  is  digested  and  as 
 similated.  Undigested  knowledge  has  no  relative  util- 
 ity, because  it  cannot  be  long  retained  and  even  while  it 
 is  remembered  it  is  in  that  confusion  that  renders  it  not 
 available,  either  in  the  prosecution  of  other  branches  of 
 learning,  or  in  any  of  the  practicalities  of  life.  And  un- 
 assim dated  knowledge  has  no  absolute  utility,  because  it 
 does  not  nourish  the  mind,  or  increase  its  power  of  iree, 
 continued,  and  vigorous  action.  After  knowledge  is  col- 
 lected, the  power  of  applying  it  will  come  by  very  slow 
 degrees;  and,  in  fact,  will  never  come  until  something 
 more  than  mere  elements  is  effectively  learnt.  This  is 
 true  of  every  department  of  knowledge:  First,  there  is  a 
 lower  stage  in  which  the  student  can  do  little  more  than 
 collect;  second,  there  is  a  higher  state  in  which  he  can 
 begin  effectively  to  apply  thought  to  his  collected  stores, 
 and  thus  acquire  the  power  of  applying  them.  When 
 we  consider  the  limited  energies  which  the  human  mind 
 
374  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 «an  bring  to  bear,  during  the  four  years  of  college  life, 
 *ipon  a  curriculum  made  up  of  the  fragments  of  twenty 
 •or  thirty  sciences,  and  languages  living  and  dead,  it  is 
 •obvious,  that  we  cannot  within  this  period  get  beyond 
 the  mere  elements, — will  not  he  able  to  reach  those 
 higher  states  (digestion  and  assimilation)  which  give  the 
 power  of  applying  these  elements.  With  an  attention 
 thus  divided,  by  this  crushing  burden  of  distracting 
 studies,  it  is  impossible  to  acquire  that  accuracy  and  orig- 
 inality of  thought  which  are  essential  to  the  practical  ap- 
 plication of  stored-up  knowledge.  It  is  plain,  therefore, 
 that  the  varied  learning  of  the  traditional  system  is  fatal 
 So  versatility.  The  "cramming,"  necessarily  involved  in 
 completing  the  dolly-varden  curriculum  of  the  tradi- 
 tional college,  is  remarkably  successful  in  making  the 
 student  conceited  all  the  forenoon  of  life,  and  stupid  all 
 Its  afternoon.  Don't  make  the  mind  a  junk, shop.  A 
 student  may  have  varied  learning,  and  yet  rank  but  little 
 above  an  intellectual  barbarian.  Not  only  do  different 
 professions  demand  different  kinds  of  knowledge,  but 
 the  different  ranks  of  the  same  profession  require  differ- 
 ent grades  of  knowledge.  There  are  things,  which  it  is 
 ■desirable,  yes  necessary,  for  a  second-class  mind  to 
 know,  which  a  fm,t-class  mind  should  be  ashamed  to 
 know.  Learning  less  varied  and  more  profound,  is  a 
 demand  of  the  age. 
 
 Now,  as  to  the  true  aim  of  American  education  be- 
 ing to  evenly  draw  out  the  mental  faculties,  and  develop 
 them  all  to  the  same  extent.  There  is  a  fine  ring  in  this 
 idea;  but  it  is  a  musical  cheat.  It  sounds  like  the  truth; 
 but  it  is  a  lie.  It  has  been  the  deluding,  mis- 
 guiding intellectual  will-o'-the-wisp  in  the  realm  of 
 the  American  educator  for  more  than  a  century.  And 
 the  path  of  pursuit  of  this  delusive  phantom  is  strewn 
 
LECTURE   OF   rROI<\    LOWEY.  275 
 
 with  the  wrecks  of  thousands  of  intellects.  Its  re- 
 actionary effect  has  been  to  bring  down  upon  the 
 traditional  college  the  withering  rebvike,  that  its 
 education  is  a  synonym  for  "a  misdirection  of  the 
 mental  energies."  To  cultivate  fully  and  harmoni- 
 ously our  various  faculties,  is  to  bring  them  up  to 
 their  full  normal  capacity,  is  simply  to  enable  them  to 
 energize  longer  and  stronger  without  painful  effort. 
 This  is  accomplished  only  by  a  free  and  untrainmeled 
 development  of  these  faculties,  such  as  is  given  by  our 
 better  American  universities  with  optional  courses;  and 
 not  by  the  planing,  beveling,  sand-papering,  i.  e.  flatten- 
 ing out,  processes  of  our  even-development  colleges. 
 Any  attempt  at  even-development  is  a  distortion  of  the 
 mind's  faculties;  because,  it  involves  either,  a  restraining 
 of  some  of  these  faculties  in  their  spontaneous  tendency 
 to  action,  or  urging  others  to  a  degree,  or  continuance, 
 of  energy  beyond  the  limit  to  which  they  of  themselves 
 freely  tend, — a  distortion  which,  by  checking  or  crush- 
 ing out  individuality,  violates  the  order  of  nature,  and  is 
 hence  subversive  of  the  best  interests  ot  the  individual, 
 ■society,  and  the  nation, — a  distortion  which  defeats  the 
 ends  of  true  culture,  by  rendering  exact  scholarship  im- 
 possible and  by  smothering  out  enthusiasm,  and  hence 
 balks  every  idea  of  advancement  and  blocks  the  wheels 
 of  progressive  civilization.  For,  by  our  very  constitu- 
 tion, certain  faculties  predominate  in  each  mind;  that  is, 
 each  person  is  born  with  the  germs  of  certain  intellectual 
 faculties  of  various  relative  intensities;  and  no  amount  of 
 true  culture  can  vary  their  number,  or  will  materially 
 change  their  relative  strengths.  And,  hence,  the  divis- 
 ion  of  labor  in  the  realm  of  intellect,  is  a  fixed  factor  in 
 the  world's  progress.  It  advances  civilization  even  more 
 powerfully   than   does   the  well-understood  division   of 
 
876  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 manual  labor.     And  for  it  there  are  two  great  reasons. 
 
 First,  that  derived  from  the  constitution  of  the 
 human  mind. 
 
 Second,  that  from  the  nature  of  truth  itself. 
 
 First,  certain  minds,  having  by  nature  a  preponder- 
 ance of  certain  faculties,  are  peculiarly  fitted  for  the  ac- 
 quisition of  particular  forms  of  knowledge  and  their  ap- 
 plication in  particular  professions.  And  we  find,  not 
 only  in  the  school  house  but  through  the  course  of  life, 
 each  mind — which  has  sufficient  candor  to  learn  itself 
 and  sufficient  individuality  to  obey  its  own  inclinations 
 and  tastes — pursuing  studies  in  the  line  of  its  activity.  It 
 is  well  it  is  so.  It  greatly  economizes  the  mental  ener- 
 gies. For,  by  this  means  all  subjects  are  studied  out  by 
 some,  and  the  ivhole  community  is  made  more  wise  than 
 they  would  be  if  the  effort  were  made  to  keep  them  all 
 abreast  in  the  march  of  intelligence.  But  the  division  of 
 mental  labor  is  not  simply  an  economical  factor  in  the 
 development  of  national  intelligence,  for,  the  shortness 
 of  human  life,  the  limited  energies  of  the  human  mind, 
 and  the  vastness  of  the  field  of  knowledge,  render  it 
 absolutely  necessary  to  any  progress  at  all.  It  is  only 
 the  unprogressive  savage  man  who  attempts  to  play 
 fanner,  warrior,  tailor,  cook,  and  merchant  at  once. 
 
 A  second  great  reason,  for  the  division  of  intellec- 
 tual labor,  and  for  special  training,  is  found,  as  Dr.  Laws 
 has  clearly  shown,  in  the  nature  of  truth  itself:  "All 
 truth  is  one  and  harmonious,  accordant  with  nature,  at 
 whatever  point  you  take  hold  of  it  with  a  firm  grasp. 
 Take  our  position  wherever  we  may  on  the  circle  of 
 knowledge,  and  we  find  every  radius  leads  to  one 
 common  centre.  Take  hold  of  any  thread  of  truth,  and 
 if  we  properly  follow  it  out,  we  will,  within  our 
 sphere  of  action,  bring  the  whole  body  of  truth  into 
 revelation." 
 
LECTURE   OF    PROF.    1,0 WRY.  277 
 
 Here  we  might  rest  the  proposition,  that  the  tradi- 
 tional system  does  not  give  versatility.  But,  in  order  to 
 reach  a  final  decision  as  to  the  relative  merits  of  the  tra- 
 ditional and  rational  systems  for  giving  versatility,  let  us 
 apply  the  crucial  test:  which  best  prepares  for  the  activ- 
 ities of  life,  in  the  order  of  their  importance? 
 
 The  comparative  worth  of  the  different  kinds  of 
 knowledge  is  not  clearly  conceived  by  the  public.  Hence, 
 our  youth  are  educated  at  random,  under  the  guidance  of 
 mere  fashion  or  fancy  or  prejudice.  The  great  question 
 in  American  education  is  not  whether  such  or  such 
 knowledge  is  of  worth,  but  what  is  its  relative  worth. 
 Before  devoting  years  to  some  subject  which  fashion  or 
 fancy  may  suggest,  it  is  surely  wise  to  weigh  with  great 
 care  the  worth  of  the  results  as  compared  with  the 
 worth  of  various  alternative  results  which  the  same 
 years  might  bring  if  otherwise  applied.  The  first  thing 
 in  deciding  among  the  conflicting  claims,  of  various  sub- 
 jects, on  our  attention,  is  to  settle  which  things  it  most 
 concerns  us  to  know,  i.  e.,  to  determine  the  relative 
 values  of  knowledges.  To  this  end,  a  measure  of  value 
 is  the  first  requisite.  Happily  about  this  there  can  be  no 
 dispute.  To  prepare  for  complete  living  is  the  true 
 function  of  education.  In  directing;  the  energies  of 
 youth,  subjects  and  methods  of  instruction  should  be 
 chosen  with  deliberate  reference  to  this  end.  Our  first 
 step  in  the  solution  of  this  problem,  is  obviously  to  clas- 
 sify in  the  order  of  their  importance  the  leading  kinds  of 
 activities  which  constitute  human  life.  They  are,  vide 
 Spencer:  i.  Those  activities  which  directly  minister  to 
 self-preservation;  2.  Those  activities,  which,  by  secur- 
 ing the  necessaries  of  life,  indirectly  minister  to  self-pres- 
 ervation; 3.  Those  activities  which  have  for  their  end 
 the  rearing  and  discipline  of  offspring;     4.  Those  activ- 
 
278  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 ities  which  are  involved  in  the  maintainance  of  proper 
 social  and  political  relations;  5.  Those  miscellaneous 
 activities  which  make  up  the  leisure  part  of  life,  devoted 
 to  the  gratification  of  the  tastes  and  feelings.  It  is  clear 
 that  these  divisions  of  our  activities  subordinate  one 
 another  in  the  foregoing  order,  because  the  correspond- 
 ing divisions  of  life  make  one  another  possible  only  in 
 that  order.  And  the  educations  which  prepare  for  these 
 activities,  should  subordinate  one  another  in  the  same 
 order  of  decreasing  importance:  1.  That  education 
 which  prepares  for  direct  self-preservation;  2.  That 
 which  prepares  for  self-maintenance;  3.  That  which 
 prepares  for  parenthood;  4.  That  which  prepares  for 
 citizenship;  5.  That  which  prepares  lor  the  miscellane- 
 ous activities  of  life.  The  ideal  of  education  is — com- 
 plete preparation  in  all  these  divisions.  But  failing  in 
 this  ideal,  as  every  one  must,  we  should  maintain  a  due 
 proportion  between  the  degrees  of  preparation  in  each. 
 Let  the  attention  be  greatest  where  the  value  is  greatest, 
 less  where  the  value  is  less,  least  where  the  value  is 
 least.  The  crucial  test  of  the  relative  educational 
 worths  of  the  sciences  and  arts,  is  their  bearing  on  these 
 activities  of  life.  Instinct  wards  off  the  sudden  annihila- 
 tion of  life,  and  slow  annihilation  is  retarded  by  obeying 
 our  sensations,  and  the  teachings  of  physiology,  the 
 second  division  of  our  activities,  is  fostered  by  the  nat- 
 ural sciences  and  the  industrial  arts;  while  physiology 
 and  psychology  are  the  best  preparatives  for  parenthood;, 
 history  and  descriptive  sociology  are  the  keys  to  intelli- 
 gent citizenship;  and  those  accomplishments,  the  classics 
 and  the  tine  arts,  which  are  the  efflorescence  of  civili- 
 zation, should  obviously  be  wholly  subordinated  to  that 
 scientific  knowledge  and  discipline  in  which  civilization 
 rests;  and  as  they  occupy  the  leisure  part  of  life,  so- 
 should  they  occupy  the  leisure  part  of  education. 
 
J.BCTURK   OF   PKOF.    LOWRY.  27b 
 
 A  simple  inspection  of  these  two  curricula  show* 
 that  the  rational  one,  both  in  the  choice  of,  and  in  the 
 arrangement  of,  its  subjects  best  prepares  for  these  activi- 
 ties of  life;  because,  it  fosters  these  activities  in  the  ordei? 
 of  their  importance.  A  trial  by  the  above  standard 
 works  disaster  to  the  curriculum  of  the  traditional  col- 
 lege. It  discloses  its  impotence  for  fostering  life's  activ- 
 ities, and  thus  reveals  the  cause  of  its  disastrous  effects 
 on  our  civilization.  This  system  has  not  only  erred  in 
 the  choice  of  its  subjects,  but  its  arrangement  of  them  is. 
 most  illogical.  By  dismissing  the  natural  sciences  and 
 the  exact,  and  the  other  useful  arts  with  a  minimum 
 amount  of  attention,  it  has  failed  to  meet  efficiently  the- 
 different  requirements  of  modern  society.  And  by 
 placing  these  natural  sciences  at  the  top  of  its  curriculum 
 and  the  abstract  sciences  at  its  bottom,  it  has  got  the 
 pdnciples  of  architecture  quite  reversed,  turned  up  side 
 down;  has  got  the  cart  before  the  horse;  has  thrown 
 the  parts  of  its  curriculum  all  out  of  joint. 
 
 The  traditional  college  is  of  English  parentage  and 
 model.  Our  politics  threaten  England,  and  her  educa- 
 tions threaten  us.  Directly  traceable  to  the  influence  of 
 England  on  our  educations,  home  and  college,  are  the 
 three  great  evils  which  now  afflict  our  institutions  ami 
 intensify  our  social  distresses.  There  is  a  defect  in  our 
 system  of  domestic  training;  a  mistake  in  our  method  of 
 college  education ;  and  a  blunder  in  our  system  of  uni- 
 versity training.  Parents  fail  to  bring  up  their  children 
 to  be  self-reliant  and  independent;  colleges  fail  to  edu- 
 cate them  in  the  lines  of  their  mental  activities;  and  uni- 
 versities fail  to  train  them  up  to  useful  trades  and  profes- 
 sions. And  hence  when  the  invention  of  a  new  machine 
 or  the  pressure  of  hard  times,  forces  them  out  of  their 
 accustomed  employment,  with  weak  power  of  indepen- 
 
280  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 dent  thought,  ana  hence  nc  power  of  adaptation,  they 
 degenerate  into  vagabonds  and  tramps, — idlers  in  a  land 
 of  work,  starving  in  a  land  of  plenty.  What  America 
 needs  is  a  generation  of  young  men  more  thoughtful  and 
 more  practical;  so  that  if  cosscd  ever  so  high  they  will, 
 cat-like,  alight  on  their  feet.  Now,  what  forces  put  to 
 work  will  trot  such  young  men  out  upon  the  stacre  of 
 action?  The  cause  of  the  evil  once  clearly  defined  will 
 suggest  its  own  remedy.  Our  traditional  universities 
 and  colleges  have  ever,  with  an  encouraging  pat  on  the 
 head,  said  "now  boys  spread  yourselves."  Inflation  has 
 been  the  order  of  the  century  in  education,  as  it  is  now 
 the  order  of  the  day  in  our  currency.  Now  note,  if  you 
 please,  what  this  has  begotten  in  the  restlessly  active 
 American  mind :  A  bolting  down,  without  mastication, 
 of  itsscientific  and  literary  food,  with  its  legitimate  con- 
 sequence— indigestion.  And  to-day,  we  are  a  nation  of 
 mental  dyspeptics,  suffering  with  scientific  and  literary 
 indigestion.  These  universities  and  colleges,  of  a  de- 
 cade ago,  had  degenerated  into  patent  machines  for  ■ 
 turning  out  that  pitiable  class  of  human  minds  commonly 
 known  as  jacks-of-all-trades — masters  of  none.  Their 
 educations  had  gone  on  diverging  from  the  practical 
 affairs  of  life  until  they  had  gotten  out  of  joint  with  the 
 times.  They  had  not  kept  up  with  the  changing  condi- 
 tions and  requirements  of  society;  and  had  hence  fallen 
 in  the  rear  of  our  civilization  and  become  drawbacks  to 
 improvement  instead  of  promoters  of  progress.  The 
 march  of  science,  the  march  of  intellect,  and  the  march 
 of  civilization  are  inseperable  concomitants,  but  the  part 
 played  by  the  classics,  in  this  march  too  often  reminds  us 
 of  Dick  Dead-Eye  in  Pinafore. 
 
 The  typical  traditional  "college  has  been  a  place  where  a  pre- 
 scribed   course    of  study,    largely    devoted    to    Greek,    Latin   and 
 
J.KCTURE   OF   PROF.    I.OWKY.  281 
 
 Mathematics,  with  a  brief  introduction  to  historical,  political  and 
 ethical  sciences,  has  continued  during  four  years,  and  led  to  a 
 bachelor's  degree.  Daily  recitations,  and  residence  within  the 
 college  wails  have  been  maintained.  One  of  the  first  innovations 
 was  made  when  the  University  of  Virginia  allowed  its  scholars  to 
 elect  their  own  courses,  gave  prominence  to  examinations,  and 
 laid  no  stress  on  the  system  of  four  year  classes.  Nearly  a  quar- 
 ter of  a  century  later  Cornell  University  sprung  at  once  into 
 great  prominence,  .by  the  freedom  with  which  it  threw  off  tradi- 
 tional fetters,  allowing  great  freedom  of  choice  of  study,  introduc- 
 ing abundant  means  of  illustration  and  practical  laboratories,  en- 
 gaging non-resident  professors  of  distinction  to  supplement  the 
 ordinary  teachers,  and  favoring  technical  instruction  in  the  useful 
 arts  as  well  as  general  instruction  in  the  liberal  arts.  And 
 threatened,  as  they  were,  with  annihilation  by  an  advancing  civil- 
 eation,  Yale,  Brown,  Rutgers,  Dartmouth,  Princeton  and  other 
 of  the  older  traditional  colleges  patched  up  their  old  curricula 
 with  new  courses  in  the  modern  sciences." 
 
 And  of  those  traditional  colleges  which  have,  from 
 inability  or  unwillingness,  failed  to  modify  their  courses  to 
 meet  the  changed  conditions  and  requirements  of  society, 
 all  are  feeble  and  struggling  for  continued  existence. 
 And,  as  one  by  one,  they  expire,  in  the  mortal  throes  of 
 agonizing  death,  we  hear  them  cry,  "the  universities  and 
 professional  schools  killed  us."  But  this  is  not  true. 
 Their's  is  the  death  of  the  suicide.  They  die  of  anaemia. 
 It  is  the  province  of  the  American  college  to  furnish  the 
 kind  of  education  which  the  American  youth  of  this  age 
 requires  and  demands.  They  either  misconceive  their 
 work,  or  ignore  public  opinion,  and  their  fate  is  inevita- 
 ble. They  disregard  the  fact,  that  obedience  to  the 
 voice  of  the  people  is  the  sine  quo  nou,  the  requisite  in- 
 dispensible,  of  the  life  of  an  American  college;  and 
 public  patronage,  their  life-giving  sap,  is  withdrawn, 
 and,  year  by  year,  they  drop  withered  blooms  from 
 the  tree  of  American  education. 
 
 "But  by  far  the  boldest  innovations  which  have  been  made  in 
 
282  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 any  traditional  college,  are  those  inaugurated  at  Harvard  under 
 the  administration  of  President  Eliot.  The  interior  working  of 
 that  institution  has  been  remodeled,  and  great  freedom  of 
 choice  (extending  to  the  modern  departments  of  science,  as 
 well  as  to  literature,  history  and  philosophy)  is  now  permitted  to 
 every  student,  with  results  which  appear  to  have  dissipated  nearly 
 all  doubts  as  to  the  wisdom  of  the  plan,  and  to  have  attracted  in- 
 creasing numbers  of  students."  « 
 
 The  State  Universities  of  the  West — the  more 
 prominent  of  which  arc,  Michigan,  Missouri,  Wiscon- 
 sin, California,  Iowa,  and  Minnesota — were  created  to 
 meet  the  demands  of  Western  American  civilization; 
 and,  embody,  in  the  main,  the  features  of  Virginia  and 
 Cornell  Universities.  They  are  the  great  nurseries  of 
 the  productive  industries  of  our  country. 
 
 These  modifications  of  the  American  colleges  are 
 likely  to  he  attended  with  the  hest  results,  for  they 
 accord  with  the  best  experience  of  other  countries. 
 It  is  the  pressure  of  public  opinion,  the  direct  in- 
 terference of  the  will  of  the  people,  that  is  remodel- 
 ing our  universities,  by  giving  the  necessary  free 
 scope  to  useiul  science  and  ingrafting  the  utilitarian  into 
 their  curricula;  and  thus,  making  them  correspond  at 
 once  to  the  spirit  of  our  Republic  and  the  wants  of  the 
 people  at  large.  For  emphatic  evidence  of  this,  look  at 
 their  courses  of  study ;  the  classics  and  the  pure  mathe- 
 matics no  longer  monopolize  all  the  student's  time 
 or  the  university's  prizes  and  honors.  Their  courses 
 now  bristle  with  life  and  living  science.  And  as  on 
 earnest  of  the  thoroughness  of  the  reformation  and  an 
 assurance  that  the  good  work  will  go  bravely  on,  look 
 at  the  character  of  the  minds  which  have  been  called  to 
 the  presidential  chairs  of  the  great  universities  of  our 
 land.  From  a  contemplation  of  these  minds  :i  whole- 
 some lesson  may  be  learned  of  the  tendencies  of  Amer- 
 
I.EOTUKK   OF    PKOF.    I.OWRY.  28S 
 
 ican  thought  and  of  the  enlightenment  and  health  "of 
 this  reformation.  Who  are  they?  Look  at  them,  from 
 Maine  to  Texas,  from  Maryland  to  California,  and 
 answer,  whether  they  are  exponents  of  exploded  creeds, 
 back-feeling  crabs,  or  worshipers  of  the  dry  bones  of 
 antiquity?  No;  they  are  possessed  of  the  dread  respon- 
 sibilities of  the  present.  Do  they  flaunt  in  your  faces 
 thread-bare  thoughts  in  languages  dead  and  half  forgot- 
 ten? Their's  is  a  nobler  work.  In  the  majesty  of  out- 
 mother  tongue,  they  give  us  thoughts  that  breathe  in 
 words  that  burn.  Why  is  it,  that  Eliot  is  at  Harvard; 
 White  at  Cornell;  Bascom  at  Indiana  University;  Laws 
 at  Missouri  University;  Oilman  at  John  Hopkins;  and 
 Leconte  at  California  University  ?  Not  simply  because 
 they  are  walking  cyclopaedias  of  classical  lore,  but  rather 
 because  they  are  men  full  of  live  science  and  well  up  to 
 the  age. 
 
 The  Missouri  University  of  to-day  and  the  one  of 
 past  days,  are  radically  different  institutions.  The  time 
 was,  when  it  was  a  mere  college  for  higher  general  cul- 
 ture; it  is  now  a  university  in  the  true,  i.  e.,  the  Ameri- 
 can acceptation  of  the  term.  Formerly  higher  educa- 
 tion in  this  university  was  up  in  the  clouds.  Franklin 
 proved  the  identity  of  the  lightning  of  the  clouds  and 
 the  electricity  of  the  laboratory;  and  Rollins,  with 
 other  far-seeing  Curators,  and  Read  and  Laws  proved 
 to  Missouri  the  identity  of  the  electric  energy  of  the 
 higher  education  with  the  energy  of  the  useful  profes- 
 sions. In  their  hands  the  professional  schools  of  medi- 
 cine, law,  agriculture,  pedagogics, and  engineering,  have 
 been  the  kite,  the  string,  and  the  key,  with  which  the 
 electric  energy  of  higher  academic  culture,  has  been 
 conducted  silently  and  effectively  down;  and  vigorous 
 life  thereby  infused   into  the  useful  professions.     Under 
 
284  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 their  management  higher  education  in  this  university  is 
 striking  roots  in  the  useful  professions  of  e very-day  life: 
 — It  is  raising  the  standard  of  medical  education;  it  is  re- 
 deeming the  bar  from  the  imputations  of  ignorance,  so 
 justly  heaped  upon  it;  it  is  increasing  Missouri's  power 
 of  production,  while  preventing  the  exhaustion  of  her 
 soil,  by  teaching  her  farmers  economic  agriculture;  it  is 
 improving  her  system  of  public  education,  by  recruiting 
 the  ranks  of  her  ten  thousand  district  school  teachers, 
 with  the  flower  of  her  youth;  it  is  spreading  the  knowl- 
 edge of  engineering,  and  thereby  utilizing  and  husband- 
 ing her  vast  material  wealth,  and  providing,  by  the  im- 
 provement of  her  great  watery  highways,  cheap  trans- 
 portation for  her  surplus  products;  and  lastly  it  is 
 strengthening  the  bulwarks  of  national  liberty,  by  dif- 
 fusing a  knowledge  of  the  arts  of  war  among  her  cit- 
 izens. This  university  is  being  redeemed  from  appa- 
 rent remoteness  and  intangibleness,  by  bringing  it  into 
 articulate  connection,  below,  with  the  high  schools,  acad- 
 emies and  private  colleges  of  the  state,  and  above,  with 
 the  useful  and  glorious  professions  and  the  great  scientific 
 services  of  the  state  and  nation.  It  thus  becomes,  not 
 only  the  crowning  glory  of  the  state  system  of  educa- 
 tion, but  also,  the  gymnasium  in  which  are  trained;  first, 
 not  accomplished  drones,  but  active,  live  men,  with 
 brains  and  muscles  capacitated  for  intelligent  productive- 
 ness in  our  four  great  industries;  and  second,  those 
 minds  and  hands  which  will  perforce  assist  in  purifying 
 and  chastening  the  public  mind  in  the  fine  arts,  in  plan- 
 ning and  constructing  those  great  engineering  opera- 
 tions and  works  of  state  and  national  importance,  and  in 
 constructing  the  maps  of  the  American  continent,  topo- 
 graphical, geological  and  agricultural. 
 
 There  are  moments  in   the   life  of  a  man  when   hig 
 
LECTURE   OF    PROF.    LOWKY.  285 
 
 destiny  stands  trembling  in  the  balance — choosing'  a  pro- 
 fession is  such  a  moment  in  the  life  of  a  young  man. 
 Upon  this  choice  many  a  promising  youth  "strands  his 
 bark,  and  the  rest  of  the  voyage  of  life  is  bound  up  in 
 shallows  and  miseries."  I  must  beg  the  attention  of 
 young  men,  who  have  not  chosen  a  profession  to  the  fol- 
 lowing: Hie  Jield  of  labor  before  the  young  engineer 
 is  broad  and  the  reward  is  bountiful.  We,  in  Missouri, 
 are  particularly  blessed  in  having  those  broad-backed,  un- 
 tiring commercial  carriers,  the  Missouri  and  Mississippi, 
 flowing  by  our  doors,  and  beckoning  us  to  load  on  our 
 gurplus  products,  and  they  will  carry  them  out  on  the 
 world's  highway  tree  of  charge.  Nature  has  given  us 
 these  noble  rivers — the  government  recognizes  it  her 
 right  and  duty  to  survey  and  improve  these  great  com- 
 mercial highways — and  the  Missouri  University  recog- 
 nizes it  a  duty,  which  she  owes  the  nation,  owes  the  ag- 
 ricultural, mining,  manufacturing  and  commercial  inter- 
 ests of  this  state,  owes  the  young  men  of  this  state,  who 
 have  natural  engineering  ability,  to  provide  departments 
 for  a  diffusion  of  a  knowledge  of  engineering  arts  and 
 sciences — so  that  these  young  men  may  assist  in  survey- 
 ing these  rivers  and  solving  those  great  problems  of  hy- 
 draulic engineering  of  state  and  national  importance — 
 solutions  which  will  enable  us  to  utilize  that  immense — 
 now  wasted — energy,  "gravity,"  and  thereby  secure  that 
 great  desideratum  of  the  west,  "cheap  transportation." 
 
 And,  besides,  we  have  old  roads  to  improve  and 
 new  roads  and  bridges  to  build,  and  on  them  yearly  ex- 
 pend untold  thousands.  Yet,  it  is  a  painful  but  patent 
 truth  that  nine-tenths  o(  the  coui  ty  surveyors  of  the 
 state  cannot,  from  sheer  ignorance  of  the  engineering 
 arts,  lay  out  and  construct  a  road  between  two  distant 
 points  on   the   shortest   and    cheapest   route.     Over   our 
 
1286  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 creeks  and  small  rivers  we  yearly  see  bridges  built  which 
 fall  by  their  own  weight.  A  knowledge  of  the  first 
 principles  of  strains  and  strength  of  materials  would 
 preclude  the  possibility  of  such  humiliating  catastrophes. 
 
 We  have  also  forests  to  be  utilized  and  marketed, 
 and  immense  hidden  mineral  wealth  of  coal,  iron,  lead, 
 &c,  to  be  developed  and  mined.  And  who  but  the 
 competent  engineer  can  do  this  economically  and  suc- 
 cessfully ?  The  United  States  government  has  under 
 ■way  surveys  and  improvements  which  it  will  take  half 
 a  century  to  complete.  She  has  now  in  progress  trigo- 
 nometrical, topographical,  geological  and  magnetic  sur- 
 veys of  her  territories,  and  trigonometrical,  topographical 
 and  hydrographic  surveys — and  improvements — of  her 
 rivers,  coasts,  and  bays  and  great  lakes;  and  on  these  she 
 wants  your  surveying  and  engineering  skill.  Many 
 of  the  states  have  underway  trigonometrical,  topograph- 
 ical, geological  and  agricultural  surveys;  and  the  in- 
 auguration, in  the  near  future,  of  these  surveys  in  the 
 state  of  Missouri  is  clearly  foreshadowed,  demanded  as 
 they  are  by  the  multiplied  wants  of  an  advanced  civili- 
 zation. 
 
 The  above  surveys  and  improvements  are  now  go- 
 ing forward  and  very  few  of  the  young  men  of  Missouri 
 are  taking  part  in  them.  Like  "the  foolish  virgins," 
 they  are  caught  without  oil  in  their  lamps,  without  spec- 
 ial fitness  for  the  work  by  previous  study  and  training, 
 and  are  hence  forced  to  sit  quietly  by  and  see  surveyors 
 and  engineers  brought  from  Germany,  England  and  the 
 eastern  states  to  survey  and  to  improve  our  numerous 
 rivers  and  survey  and  map  our  state  and  national 
 domain.  The  young  men  of  Missouri  are  allowing 
 golden  opportunities  to  glide  by  them.  It  is  no  fault  of 
 the  United  States  government  that  there  are  not  scores 
 
LECTURE   OF    PROF.   LOWBY.  287 
 
 of  Missouri's  sons  now  enjoying  high,  honorable  and  lu- 
 crative positions  in  the  great  scientific  services  and  sur- 
 veys of  the  nation.  She  stands  ready  to  employ  the 
 competent.  All!  the  heart  grows  faint  and  Mck  to  see 
 the  amount  of  natural — but  undeveloped — engineering 
 ability  which  goes  out  from  our  universities  and  colleges 
 yearly  and  wastes  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air. 
 
 Foreign  nations  are  anxious  to  employ  you.  Are 
 not  American  surveyors  and  engineers  now  in  the  high- 
 est offices  in  the  Japanese  coast  survey?  Are  not  Amer- 
 ican generals  and  engineers  heading  the  army  of  the 
 khedive  of  Eypt?  Are  not  American  astronomers  and 
 engineers  building1  the  railroads  and  manning  the  obser- 
 vatorics  of  the  South  American  republics?  Yes  Amer- 
 ican surveying,  astronomical  and  engineering  talents 
 command  a  premium  in  foreign  markets.  There  are,  in 
 the  American — and  especially  the  Western  American — 
 minds  a  fertility  of  resources,  a  power  of  adapting  means 
 to  ends,  and  an  acuteness  of  perception  which  peculiarly 
 fit  them  for  observers,  planners  and  executors  in  the  sur- 
 veying and  engineering  arts,  which  make  them  emphat- 
 ically the  best  astronomers,  surveyors,  and  engineers  in 
 the  world.  Make  yourselves  thorough  in  the  theory, 
 and  expert  in  the  practice  of  either  astronomy,  geodesy 
 hydrographic  surveying,  civil  engineering,  or  topograph- 
 ical surveying  and  you  will  not  have  to  hunt  positions; 
 for,  positions  hunt  such  men  as  these.  The  world  is  wait- 
 ing for  these  men. 
 
 To  enable  young  men  of  Missouri  to  prepare  them- 
 selves for  labor  in  these  inviting  fields,  the  Missouri  Uni- 
 versity established  an  Engineering  Department  which 
 is  in  successful  and  growing  operation.  The  courses 
 are:  I.  Civil  engineering.  II.  Topographical  engi- 
 neering. III.  Military  engineering.  IV.  Surveying, 
 Each  leading  to  its  appropriate  degree  (and  diploma). 
 
288  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 The  course  in  civil  engineering  is  designed  for  those  who 
 wish  to  make  either  road  and  railroad  engineering,  bridge  con- 
 struction, or  river  improvement,  a  specialty.  The  course  in  topo- 
 graphical engineering  is  arranged  for  those  who  find  distasteful 
 the  higher  analytical  mathematics,  and  who  show  instead  special 
 aptitude  for  the  surveys  and  improvements  of  rivers,  lakes  and 
 coasts.  The  course  in  surveying  fits  young  men  for  navigation, 
 practical  astronomy  and  the  United  States  government  trigono- 
 metrical, topographical,  geological,  magnetic,  coast  and  river  sur- 
 veys, all  of  which  are  now  under  way.  The  course  in  military 
 engineering  is  essentially  that  of  the  United  States  military  acad- 
 emy at  West  Point.  This  department  now  offers  a  complete  the- 
 oretical and  practical  treatment  of  these  great  subdivisions  of  en- 
 gineering and  surveying.  Its  design  being  to  turn  out  practical 
 surveyors  and  engineers,  a  practical  application,  in  the  field, 
 of  every  theory  is  required.  Active  efforts  are  made  to  secure 
 the  surveying  and  engineering  graduates  positions,  and  with  grati- 
 fying success;  a  number  of  them  are  employed  on  the  work  of  the 
 U.  S.  A.  engineer  corps. 
 
 Why  is  it  that  the  large  majority  of  our  educated 
 
 young  men  can't  support  themselves?  are  either,  relying 
 upon  "fathers"  to  take  care  of  them,  or,  as  Dr.  P.  Yea- 
 man  expresses  it,  "are  anxious  to  become  apron-string 
 pensioners;"  would  starve  if  tossed  into  the  world  and 
 forced  to  take  care  of  themselves!  Is  it  not  the  "glorious 
 inutility"  of  the  education  which  our  sd-called  colleges 
 give  them?  The  great  majority  of  our  colleges  pro- 
 vides the  people  with  only  limited  elementary  and  vague 
 theoretical  instruction,  totally  insufficient  for  the  mechan- 
 ical uses  of  every  day  life;  and  thus  utterly  fails  to  stir  up, 
 to  stimulate  the  intellect,  to  develop  and  make  it  suscep- 
 tible of  higher  impulses.  Among  the  immense  major- 
 ity of  American  students,  a  kind  of  mental  collapse  fol- 
 lows the  sparse  instruction  received  in  these  colleges. 
 This  faulty  course  of  education  generates  stagnation, 
 checks  or  crushes  out  the  civilizatory  spontaneity  of  the 
 masses.      The   chronic    indifference   thus    produced    in 
 
LFCTURE   OF   PROF.    LOWRY.  289 
 
 the  masses,  to  any  instruction  beyond  the  coarse  rudi- 
 ments, has  resulted  in  long  protracted  and  various  social, 
 political,  and  governmental  depressions.  It  has  done 
 more:  flooded  our  nation  with  non-producers, — drones 
 in  the  hive  of  humanity;  and  filled  our  land  with  tramps 
 and  crime.  Now  let  this  brood  of  parasites  (viz.:  coun- 
 terfeiters, lottery  operators,  confidence  men,  corrupt  leg- 
 islators, batterers  in  justice,  and  thousands  oi  other  call- 
 ings more  despicable  than  the  lowest  activity  in  the 
 scale  of  honest  labor)  hang  on  to  American  society,  and 
 multiply,  for  another  decade, — let  crime  continue  another 
 ten  years  at  fever  heat — let  red-handed  communism  strike 
 down  the  rights  of  property,  and  then  indeed,  will  we 
 see  American  Liberty  go  out  like  a  blazing  comet  in  a 
 sea  of  blood. 
 
 The  best  methods  and  systems  will,  however,  be 
 inefficient  until  the  spirit  shall  awaken  and  stimulate  the 
 man  from  within.  That,  and  only  that,  has  a  healthy 
 growth  which  grows  by  itself,  bv  its  own  vitality.  Give 
 the  mind  an  insight  into  the  applied  sciences  and  you 
 imbue  it  with  a  life-long  enthusiasm.  The  outer  or 
 merely  theoretical  circle  of  applied  science  is  the  dead- 
 line of  intellectual  progress.  Fall  short  of  it  and  your 
 life  is  a  failure,  fall  within  it  and  success  is  yours.  It  is 
 here  that  God  has  wrought  his  wonders  to  perform, — it 
 is  here  that  are  found  the  mainsprings  ol  the  world's 
 progressive  civilization.  Now  our  traditional  colleges 
 have  ever  pushed  the  applied  sciences  into  the  hack- 
 ground,  utterly  oblivious  of,  or  ignoring,  the  fact  that  the 
 application  of  the  sciences,  in  the  exact  an. I  the  industrial 
 arts,  completes  genuine  American  civilization, — t'i.Kcs  the 
 material  and  social  prosperity  of  the  whole  country. 
 American  civilization  i^  the  result  of  brin  Mil,'  the  united 
 exerli  >ns  oi"  science  and  industry  to  a  direct  and  constant 
 
290  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 bearing  on  the  requirements  of  the  millions.  Every  in- 
 dustrial pursuit  is  a  science  in  itself,  and,  to  become 
 really  productive,  ought  to  be  carried  out  scientifically. 
 Unfortunately,  the  science  which  we  learn  at  college,  is 
 too  apt  to  be  left  at  college.  Take  it  home  with  you; 
 carry  it  about  with  you,  and  apply  it  every  day. 
 
 "That  son  is  not  truly  educated  who  cannot  grow  more  corn 
 on  the  acre  than  his  unlearned  father,  and  grow  it  with  less  labor. 
 That  educated  daughter  has  received  a  mistaken  and  superficial 
 training,  if  she  cannot  excel  her  mother  in  making  soap,  or 
 cheese,  or  butter.  All  these  are  chemical  processes,  in  which  her 
 education  should  render  her  an  adept  far  beyond  any  untaught 
 person.  That  educated  horticulturist,  whose  garden  is  not  better, 
 and  whose  fruit  trees  are  not  more  thrifty  and  productive  than  his 
 illiterate  neighbor's,  sadly  discredits  and  damages  the  cause  of 
 education." 
 
 When  I  address  myself  to  the  young  men  who  are 
 preparing  themselves  for  that  profession,  the  most  glori- 
 ous of  earth,  the  ministry.  Ah!  here,  I  touch  upon 
 sacred  ground.  Stepping  from  the  lecture  room,  where 
 you  learn  to  read  the  book  of  nature,  into  the  pulpit  you 
 step  from  the  grand  to  the  sublime!  The  knowledge 
 you  have  of  nature  must  not  be  a  vague  indefinite 
 knowledge  that  in  all  creation  there  is  wisdom;  but 
 rather  a  conscious  knowledge, — a  glowing,  intelligent, 
 burning  conviction  of  the  wisdom  of  the  structure  of 
 the  universe.  It  will  not  do  for  you  to  have  simply  a 
 hear-say  knowledge  that  the  bee  constructs  its  cell  in  a 
 geometrical  figure  the  strongest  and  most  economical  of 
 space  and  material;  that  the  wheat  stalk  is  fashioned 
 into  the  shape  the  strongest  possible  with  the  given 
 amount  of  material;  that  the  hawk  in  his  swoop  for  a 
 chicken  describes  a  cycloid,  the  curve  of  swiftest  possible 
 descent;  that  a  ray  of  reflected  light  traverses  the  short- 
 est possible  path;  that  God   employed   but   three   curves 
 
I.ECTURR   OF   PROF.   LOWRY.  291 
 
 in  the  mechanism 'of  the  heavens,  the  cllip.se,  the  parab- 
 ola, and  the  hyperbola.  Let  your  conviction  of  such  of 
 nature's  truths  flow  from  a  conscious  knowledge,  a 
 power  to  prove  them,  and  then  indeed  will  you  be  able 
 to  send  the  conviction  home  that  the  earth,  the  air  and 
 all  therein  proclaim,  and  the  heavens  bear  witness  of  a 
 transcendently  intelligent  first  cause.  Having  traversed 
 the  road  yourself,  you  can  lead  the  doubting  up  through 
 nature  to  nature's  God.  You  say  you  will  not  study  the 
 open  book  of  nature.  A  great,  a  fatal  mistake!  You 
 ignore  the  design  of  God.  He  has  given  you  two  books 
 of  revelation — His  word  and  His  works.  The  refor- 
 mation remains  but  half  completed  till  to  the  free  and 
 intelligent  reading  of  the  imprinted  book,  is  added  the 
 intelligent  reading  of  the  impressed  book,  the  book  of 
 nature.  Reading  the  book  of  nature  is  not  a  mere 
 matter  of  choice — it  is  imperative!  The  health  and  life 
 of  our  physical  organism  depend  upon  it.  Is  not  the 
 edible  mushroom  planted  by  the  poisonous  toadstool? 
 and  the  luscious  grape  hung  by  the  deadly  berry?  Some 
 Botany,  it  is  obvious,  must  be  learned.  And  electricity 
 the  world's  subtile  nerve  force,  will  pulsate  a  maiden's 
 whisper  under  oceans  and  across  continents  when 
 handled  with  intelligent  care;  but  handle  it  with  careless 
 ignorance  and  see  how  quickly  it  will  shock  you!  yes, 
 shatter  every  bone  in  your  body.  And  steam  is  a  harm- 
 less, docile  slave  in  an  intelligent  hand,  but  a  rebellious 
 fury  in  the  hand  of  ignorance.  But  do  you  say  you  will 
 learn  enough  of  these  sciences  to  preserve  life  and 
 health,  and  no  more?  You  then  discard  the  second 
 book  of  revelation,  teeming  with  the  grandest  intelli- 
 gence, power,  and  wisdom  of  the  first  great  cause.  You 
 forget  what  relation  you  sustain  to  the  government  of 
 God.     You  stand  as   the   interpreters  of  His  words  and 
 
292  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 •works.  Ah  then,  how  can  you  look  upon  the  face  of 
 nature,  without  blushing  for  your  ignorance  of  the 
 beauty,  harmony,  intelligence,  and  power  there  dis- 
 played? Send  your  spirit  forth  through  the  works  of 
 God,  and  it  will  catch  an  inspiration  which  will  make 
 your  very  thoughts  syllogisms,  your  every  utterance  con- 
 viction. The  Author  of  the  universe  has  so  intended. 
 The  days  of  miracles  are  past.  Those  inspired  directly 
 from  heaven  are  no  more.  The  word  and  works  of 
 God  are  the  fountains  of  inspiration  of  His  interpreters 
 in  this  day  and  age.  The  christian  religion  is  not  a 
 mere  thing  of  fancy  of  disappointed  old  maids,  love-sick 
 bachelors,  silly  old  women,  or  half-witted  old  men.  It 
 has  a  deep  under  current  of  pure  philosophy  and  reason 
 which  challenges  the  study,  the  wonder  and  admiration 
 of  the  wisest  and  brightest  of  earth.  It  is  applied 
 science  which  enables  us  to  draw  aside  the  veil  from  the 
 face  of  nature,  and  view  in  its  grand  simplicity,  the 
 order,  harmony,  and  wonderful  economy  of  force  and 
 material  which  the  Architect  of  the  universe  has  set 
 forth  in  his  works.  How  few,  oh  very  few!  of  the  young 
 ministers  of  the  Gospel  ever  lift  the  veil  of  this  inner 
 temple  of  God's  works — who  ever  enter  this  holy  of 
 holies  of  the  material  universe. 
 
 "The  true  work  of  the  educator  is  to  act  the  part  of 
 gleaner.  The  best  schools  and  educational  facilities  of 
 to-day  are  certain  short  hand  processes  to  help  the  stu- 
 dent in  gleaning  the  field  of  knowledge  and  selecting  a 
 specialty."  The  true  work  of  the  teacher  being  to 
 glean  the  field  ol  knowledge,  he  must  possess  the  power 
 of  analyzing,  that  is,  explaining  the  reason,  use,  and 
 connection  of  every  part  ol  the  subject.  Mere  book 
 learning  in  the  applied  sciences  is  a  sham  and  a  delusion. 
 What  the   teacher  here  teaches,  unless   he  wishes   to  be 
 
liECTURE   OF   PROF.   LOWRY.  293 
 
 an  impostor,  thnt  he  must  first  know;  and  real  knowl- 
 edge in  the  applied  sciences  means  a  personal  acquain- 
 tance with  the  facts,  a  conscious  knowledge  of  the  sub- 
 ject. He  must  have  the  rationale  of  his  subject,  so  that 
 he  can  carry  to  the  waiting  mind  a  conviction  of  its 
 truth,  and  connect  that  truth  with  the  duties  of  life. 
 That  teacher  of  any  one  of  the  Exact  Arts  is  a  success 
 or  a  failure  in  proportion  to  his  ability  of  ferreting  out, 
 and  holding  up  to  inspection,  that  central  thread  of  com- 
 mon sense  on  which  the  pearls  of  analytical  research  are 
 invariably  found  strung.  For  until  the  teacher  Joes 
 this,  his  own  spirit  is  not  illumined,  and  hence  he  cannot 
 come  before  his  class  with  his  mind  all  ablaze,  shedding 
 living  light  on  his  subject.  And  to  acquire  the  good 
 will-  of  his  pupils  it  is  not  necessary  that  he  shall  be  a 
 fawning  sycophant,  cowering  for  a  smile.  There  is  that 
 which  is  far  more  potent:  a  hearty,  open,  up  and  down 
 enthusiasm  for  the  subject  of  his  teaching.  We  have, 
 in  the  career  of  every  live  teacher,  a  forcible  illustration 
 of  this  idea,  and  a  living  testimony  of  the  patent  truth  in 
 the  saying  of  Josh  Billings,  that,  "a  live  man  in  a  Uni- 
 versity is  like  the  itch  in  a  district  school — puts  every- 
 body to  scratching.'* 
 
 Force  of  character  in  a  teacher,  is  no  less  important 
 than  this  enthusiasm.  'Tis  spirit  that  responds  to  spirit, 
 mind  that  acts  on  mind,  character  that  impresses  char- 
 acter, hence,  it  is  disastrous  to  subject  the  plastic  mind  of 
 youth  to  the  influence,  the  tuition  of  a  mind  without 
 force  of  character.  To  breathe  the  atmosphere  of  such 
 a  mind  is  contamination,  to  touch  it  is  disease,  and  long 
 contact  with  it,  is  intellectual  death. 
 
 That  the  student  possess  enthusiasm,  is  not  enough. 
 It  must  be  a  healthy  enthusiasm.  An  enthusiasm  for  a 
 profession  which  he  can  master — an  ambition  to   accom- 
 
294  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 plish  that  which  is  within  his  reach.  To  attempt  more, 
 or  aim  higher,  is  spending  your  strength  beating  the 
 winds.  Don't  shoot  at  the  stars.  Let's  first  measure  our 
 strength,  then  aim  at  a  mark  the  highest,  which  we  have 
 a  reasonable  hope  of  attaining,  ever  hearing  in  mind  that 
 we  Americans  are  prone  to  overestimate  our  mental 
 powers  and  physical  endurance.  We  all  imagine  we 
 are  born  either  for  the  Court  of  St.  James,  the  halls  of 
 Congress  or  the  White  House.  Missouri  is  full  of 
 young  men  who  have  their  eyes  on  marks  which,  if 
 they  would  but  measure  their  mental  calibers,  they 
 would  see  there  is  not  a  ghost  of  a  chance  of  their  ever 
 attaining.  "O  wud  some  power  the  giftie  gae  us,  to  see 
 ourselves  as  ithers  see  us."  Do  I  hear  the  objection  that 
 perhaps  hidden  powers  of  mind  are  possessed?  Don't 
 deceive  yourselves,  young  gentlemen.  If  you  have  the 
 promethean  spark  within,  you  are  conscious  of  it, — just 
 as  conscious  as  you  are  of  the  muscular  strength  of  your 
 arm. 
 
 To  the  idea  that  every  American  is  a  born  lawyer, 
 doctor,  orator,  or  statesman,  and  the  consequent  rushing 
 into  the  glorious  professions,  as  they  are  called,  law, 
 medicine,  and  politics,  is  due  the  failure  of  so  many. 
 Those  minds  and  hands  which  the  nation  needs,  and 
 whose  exertions  will  be  paid  and  applauded,  are  not  the 
 plodders  in  the  lower  walks  of  the  glorious  professions; 
 but  instead,  those  brains  and  muscles  which  have  the 
 faculty,  habit,  and  inclination  of  thinking  logically  and 
 quickly,  of  putting  two  and  two  together  and  their 
 ehoulders  to  the  wheel.  But  are  you  determined?  then 
 go  on!  ignore  the  useful  professions!  make  petty -fog 
 lawyers,  quack-doctors,  one-horse  preachers,  and  politic- 
 ians, and  see  how  quickly  the  world  will  put  you  on 
 half-rations,   or   send   you    to   the    poor    house.      "The 
 
LKOTURE    OF    PKOF.    LOWKV.  295 
 
 offices  of  life  are  mainly  humble;  and  the  mental 
 powers  and  capabilities  of  students  are  mainly  humble." 
 The  sooner  we  see  this  truth  clearly,  and  act  upon  it, 
 the  sooner  we  place  ourselves  in  the  way  of  becoming 
 producers  in  the  hive  of  humanity,  useful  to  the  world 
 in  our  day  and  generation. 
 
 "As  a  matter  of  fact  and  experience  it  is  found  that 
 a  student  usually  accomplishes  very  little  until  a  settled 
 and  definite  purpose  presides  over  his  movements.  The 
 energies  of  youth  are  limited  and  hence  to  qualify  them 
 for  life's  work,  which  is  the  great  aim  of  scholastic  edu- 
 cation, as  much  definiteness  as  practicable  should  be 
 given  to  their  energies  to  save  them  from  waste." 
 There  is  not  enough  definiteness  of  aim  among  the 
 American  students.  We  find  among  them  too  many 
 cross-eyed  minds, — minds  which,  when  they  bend  the 
 bow  to  shoot  the  crow,  kill  the  cat  in  the  window.  The 
 average  American  student  at  college  has  a  burning 
 desire  to  acquire  everything  in  general,  but  nothing  in 
 particular, — to  go  everywhere  in  the  whole  realm  of 
 literature,  language,  and  science.  They  are  in  a  great 
 hurry  to  go  somewhere  and  get  something,  but  "where" 
 or  "what,"  they  too  often  know  not.  It  is  this  indefi- 
 niteness  of  aim,  this  vacillating  purpose,  which  develops 
 them  into  the  intellectual  Don  Quixotes  of  our  country, 
 who  are  ever  charging  upon  imaginary  intellectual 
 knights,  ever  attempting  the  impracticable  and  the  im- 
 possible. While  it  is  those  minds  who,  knowing  their 
 powers,  work  in  the  lines  of  their  mental  activities  with 
 a  definiteness  and  fixedness  of  purpose,  are  the  soldiers 
 in  the  army  of  civilization.  Cultivate  force  of  character 
 if  you  would  be  of  the  higher  order  of  men.  The  two 
 grand  divisions,  alike  of  animals  and  men  are  verte- 
 brates and  invertebrates.     Vertebrate  men  have  a  back- 
 
296  UNIVERSITY    OF  MISSOURI 
 
 bone,  and  invertebrate  men  have  none, — but  a  long  strip 
 of  cartilage  where -the  back-bone  ought  to  be.  Tbose 
 we  admire,  these  we  pity  and  despise.  A  man  without 
 back-bone,  a  vacillating,  double-minded  man  is,  in  busi- 
 ness, a  failure;  in  the  army  he  is  a  blunder;  in  the  navy- 
 he  is  a  Sinbad;  in  the  coast  survey  be  is  a  cooker;  in 
 science  he  is  a  smatterer;  in  the  mechanic  and  the  exact 
 arts  he  is  a  bungler;  in  agriculture  he  is  a  dabbler;  in 
 medicine  he  is  a  quack;  in  the  pulpit  he  is  a  narcotic;  at 
 the  bar  he  is  a  shyster;  in  politics  he  is  a  demagogue;  in 
 the  forum  he  is  a  buncombe;  in  the  presidential  chair  he 
 is  a  tool  in  the  hands  of  scheming  politicians;  in  paint- 
 ing he  is  a  dauber;  in  poetry  he  is  a  rhymster;  in  music  . 
 he  is  an  automaton;  in  the  drawing  room  he  is  a  fawn- 
 ing sycophant-  co  Bering  for  a  smile;  in  the  editorial 
 sanctum  he  is  a  scribbler;  in  the  faculty  he  is  a  stum- 
 bling block;  in  the  school  room  he  is  a  failure,  yes, 
 worse,  he  is  a  curse,  he  is  a  crime:  In  his  essence  he  is 
 a  fraud.  In  this  life,  his,  is  endless  trouble  and  vexation 
 of  spirit;  and  in  Heaven, — w-e-1-1 — he  is  not  admitted 
 there: — James  I,  6-7:  "He  that  wavereth  is  like  a  wave 
 of  the  sea  driven  with'the  wind  and  tossed.  For  let  not 
 that  man  think  that  he  shall  receive  anything  of  the 
 Lord." 
 
 By  the  meagre  instruction  of  the  traditional  college 
 and  by  its  perverted  order  of  attempting  to  evenly  draw 
 out  the  mental  faculties,  and  bv  its  insane  effort  to  mould 
 into  one  form  the  minds  of  all  the  pupils,  not  only  has 
 the  entire  public  mind  been  dwarfed  but  thousands  of 
 intellects  have  been,  and  are  continually  murdered;  and 
 to  shield  their  own  inefficiency  and  that  of  their  system 
 these  teachers  pronounce  over  the  masses  a  condemna- 
 tory verdict  of  imbecility,  by  such  truisms  as,  "we  can't 
 polish  brick-bats,  nor  draw  blood  out  of  turnips." 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    LOWKV.  297 
 
 Our  rational  universities  with  their  professional 
 schools,  made  the  first  lift,  the  first  effort  to  restore  to 
 each  individual  the  use  of  his  peculiar  mental  faculties, 
 by  bringing  within  easy  reach  the  fertilizing  means  of 
 instruction  in  the  line  of  each  mind's  activity.  The  par- 
 ticular spark  latent  in  each  human  creature  is  being  en- 
 kindled, and  the  dignity  of  humanity  redeemed  in  the 
 masses.  On  the  extension  of  these  professional  schools, 
 depends  the  true  progress  and  all-embracing  civilization 
 of  the  people. 
 
 That  agriculture  and  mines  furnish  the  raw  material 
 for  the  life-blood  of  our  nation,  which  manufactures 
 digest,  and  commerce  distributes  to  every  part,  are  prop- 
 ositions indisputable, — are  political  axioms,  self-evident 
 upon  the  mere  statement.  Agriculture  and  mines  are 
 the  feeders,  manufactures  the  stomachs,  commerce  the 
 veins  and  arteries,  and  the  telegraph  wires  the  nerves  of 
 the  American  nation.  We  can,  hence,  see  that  the  four 
 grand  pillars  of  our  state  prosperity  are  so  linked  in 
 union  together  that  no  permanent  cause  of  prosperity  or 
 adversity  to  one  of  them,  can  operate  without  extending 
 its  influence  to  the  others.  Now,  in  a  healthy  nation, 
 leaving  out  only  some  very  small  classes,  what  are  all 
 men  employed  in?  They  are  employed  in  the  produc- 
 tion, preparation,  and  distribution  of  commodities.  Is  it 
 not  then  clear,  that  the  true  work  of  the  American  uni- 
 versities, in  their  special  schools,  is  to  foster  these  great 
 national  industries, — by  forming,  not  "hewers  of  wood 
 and  drawers  of  water,"  not  ignoramuses  who  will  place 
 themselves  in  competition  with  modern  machinery,  but 
 rather  enlightened  members  of  the  body  politic,  produc- 
 tive members  of  the  community;  skillful,  well-informed 
 practical  artisans,  operatives,  agriculturists,  and  artists  in 
 the  industrial  and  exact  arts.    It  is  these  men,  full  of  live 
 
298  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 science  and  its  applications  in  the  industrial  and  the  exact 
 arts,  who  are  at  once  the  masters  of  the  situation,  and  a 
 demand  of  the  age.  In  fact,  the  American  universities 
 have  already  made  professional  education  a  successful 
 and  important  part  of  their  service  to  the  public. 
 
 "It  is,  says  Prof.  Eliot,  a  function  which  we  have  acquired 
 within  this  century,  have  found  very  useful  and  propose  to  en- 
 large. To  us  a  relinquishment  of  this  power  by  Oxford  and  Cam- 
 bridge, seems  a  loss  of  power  and  an  injury  both  to  the  universi- 
 ties and  the  nation.  The  abandonment  by  the  English  universi- 
 ties of  the  great  field  of  professional  education  is  one  of  the  most 
 noteworthy  things  in  their  history.  Formerly,  they,  like  the  con- 
 tinental universities,  had  faculties  of  theology,  law,  and  medicine; 
 but  the  professional  instruction  in  law  has  been  practically  aban 
 doned  by  them  for  generations ;  while  even  in  theology  their 
 meagre  provision  of  systematic  instruction  has  lost  them  the  con- 
 trol of  the  Anglican  clergy.  Professional  education  in  law  and 
 medicine  long  since  left  Oxford  and  Cambridge  and  went  to 
 London,  where  neither  legal  nor  medical  education  has  been 
 •atisfactorily  provided  for." 
 
 England  is  fifty  years  behind  Germany  in  her  edu- 
 cational facilities.  The  German  gymnasium  with  the 
 University,  the  German  Realschule  with  the  Professional 
 School,  are  the  life  and  lights  of  that  nation  which  has 
 within  twelve  years  arisen  in  her  colossal  grandeur,  and 
 assumed  her  place  as  the  arbiter  of  the  destinies  of 
 Europe.  And  they  stand  now  beacon  lights  upon  the 
 mountain  tops  to  guide  the  educational  efforts  of  the 
 world.  The  American  Universities,  profiting  by  the 
 blunders  of  the  English  Universities,  are  incorporating 
 professional  schools  into  their  curricula. 
 
 The  following  historical  matter  is  from  Prof.  Oil- 
 man in  North  American  Rcvieiv^  1876: 
 
 "The  earliest  professional  education  in  this  country, 
 was  given  by  the  clergymen,  lawyers,  and  physicians, 
 each  in  hi^  own  w;i\    and  own  study,  without   any  refer- 
 
IiECTURK   OF   PROF.    LOWEY.  29$ 
 
 ence  to  an  academic  examination  or  degree.  The  im- 
 perfection of  such  means  of  education  gradually  led  to 
 the  establishment  of  schools,  which  were  technical  train- 
 ing-places for  lawyers,  ministers  and  physicians.  One 
 of  the  earliest  and  best  of  law  schools  was  begun  in 
 Litchfield,  Connecticut,  by  Judges  Reeve  and  Gould  in 
 1784,  and  maintained  for  many  years — drawing  to  its  in- 
 instructions  young  men  from  the  most  distant  parts  of 
 the  land.  In  1794,  Chancellor  Kent  delivered  his  intro- 
 ductory lecture  on  law  in  Columbia  College,  N.  Y.  In 
 1816  Harvard  appointed  a  professor  of  law.  The  Law 
 School  at  New  Haven  was  organized  in  1824,  and  re- 
 mained a  private  institution  until  1S46,  though  a  profes- 
 sorship of  law  had  been  maintained  in  Yale  College 
 after  1801.  The  University  of  Virginia  began  a  law 
 school  in  1825.  There  are  now  thirty-eight  schools  of 
 law. 
 
 "It  was  during  the  Revolution  that  the  first  steps 
 were  taken  at  Cambridge  for  the  introduction  of  the 
 study  of  medicine,  and  a  plan  for  the  establishment  of 
 three  chairs  relating  to  medicine  was  presented  to  the 
 Corporation  by  Dr.  Warren  in  1782.  The  Medical 
 school  at  New  Haven  was  begun  in  1813;  the  College 
 of  Physicians  and  Surgeons  in  New  York  dates  from 
 1807.  There  are  now  seventy-four  schools  of  medicine, 
 besides  eleven  dental  and  fourteen  pharmaceutical 
 •colleges. 
 
 "  The  Catholics  maintained  a  Theological  school  at 
 Baltimore  as  early  as  1791,  and  another  at  Emmitsburg 
 in  1 80S;  the  theological  school  was  founded  at  Andover 
 in  1807,  at  Princeton  in  1812,  at  Cambridge  in  18 17,  at 
 Bangor  in  181S,  at  New  Haven  in  1822,  though  in  the 
 colleges  last  named,  theological  instruction  had,  for  a 
 long   time   previous,   been    given   to    graduates.     Now 
 
300  UNIVERSITY    OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 there  are  1 13  theological  schools.  It  is  thus  apparent 
 that  one  of  the  earliest  intellectual  movements  of  the 
 Republic  was  the  organization  of  professional  schools. 
 
 "One  of  the  most  important  modifications  in  the 
 higher  education  has  been  the  growth,  within  the  last 
 twenty-five  years,  of  special  schools  of  science.  For  a 
 long  period  the  United  States  Military  Academy  at 
 West  Point,  founded  in  1802,  was  not  only  a  school  of 
 military  engineering,  but  was  the  chief  place  in  the 
 country  for  the  training  of  topographical,  hydrogra- 
 phical  and  civil  engineers.  In  1826  the  Rensselaer 
 Polytechnic  school  at  Troy  was  incorporated,  and  un- 
 <ler  the  guidance  of  Amos  Eaton  quickly  exerted  a 
 strong  influence  in  favor  of  what  has  been  called  in  later 
 days,  the  New  Education.  About  twenty  years  later  the 
 foundation  of  the  Lawrence  Scientific  school  at  Cam- 
 bridge, and  the  accession  of  Agassiz  to  its  staff  of 
 teachers,  gave  the  next  impulse  to  scientific  education, 
 and  soon  the  Yale,  now  the  Sheffield  Scientific  school 
 began  its  career.  Now,  most  of  the  older  institutions 
 and  the  State  Universities  of  the  West,  of  which,  Co- 
 lumbia, Princeton,  Dartmouth,  and  Pennsylvania  Uni- 
 versity (and  the  Universities  of  Michigan  and  Missouri) 
 are  conspicuous  examples,  announce  their  special  courses 
 in  engineering  and  o^her  departments  of  science.  The 
 Stevens  Institute  at  Hoboken,  distinct  from  every  other 
 foundation,  has  made  a  specialty  of  mechanics  and 
 physics."  Many  of  our  best  geodists,  astronomers  and 
 topographical  and  hydrographical  engineers  have  re- 
 ceived their  training  by  service,  during  a  term  of  years, 
 on  the  United  States  Coast  Survey. 
 
 "In  1S62  Congress  appropriated  a  very  large  portion  of  the 
 national  domain  for  the  encouragement  of  scientific  instruction. 
 The  act  is   known  as  the  'Agricultural  College  Act,'  but  its  pro- 
 
LECTURE   OP    PROF.   L.OWRY.  301 
 
 visions  include  the  sciences  relating  to  agriculture  and  the  me- 
 chanic arts,  not  excluding  literary  and  classical  studies.  Its  in- 
 tent was  to  give  an  impulse  all  over  the  land  to  those  studies 
 which  have  the  most  obvious  relation  to  the  development  of  the 
 national  resources,  and  which  will  fit  young  men  for  modern 
 scientific  professions.  Its  effect  has  been  remarkable.  Notwith- 
 standing occasional  infelicities  in  the  plans  of  operation  adopted 
 by  some  of  the  states,  the  general  influence  of  this  endowment 
 has  been  excellent.  In  some  of  the  older  eastern  states  the  na- 
 tional grant  was  sometimes  given  to  the  support  and  development 
 of  institutions  already  begun,  as  at  Providence,  New  Haven,  Bur- 
 lington, Hanover,  and  New  Brunswick.  In  Massachusetts  it  was 
 divided,  a  part  going  to  the  Institute  of  Technology  in  Boston,  and 
 a  part  to  the  Agricultural  College  at  Amherst.  In  New  York 
 this  gift  ga\e  strength  and  vitality  to  Coi  nell  University,  and  ena- 
 bled it  to  spring  at  once  into  a  position  of  conspicuous  influence." 
 In  a  few  of  the  western  slates  this  national  bounty  went  to  the 
 State  Universities,  to  found  agricultural  coll  i     Missouri, 
 
 Wisconsin  and  Minnesota.  "The  southern  states,  in  consequence 
 of  the  war,  were  slow  to  receive  the    be  i  i     the    Act;  but 
 
 throughout  the  North  and  West,  institutions  aided  by  this  gr;  it 
 are  now  in  full  progress,  and  usually  with  results  which  are  better 
 than  even  th  Is  of  the  enactment  anticipated." 
 
 Tiie  American  Universities  are  incorporating  pro- 
 fessional  schools  into  their  curricula;  hut  they  are  com- 
 mitting the  f.i  of  attempting  tc  teach  tlic  arts 
 without  fittting  tht  r,i  into  practice.  And  our  Poly- 
 technic schools  and  Military  Institutes  are  falling  into 
 the  same  error.  I  quote  from  the  Report  of  the  special 
 Examining  Board  oi  the  Virginia  Military  Institute, 
 Lexington,  Va.,  July  1st,  1075.  The  Board  consisted  of 
 Prof.  Chas.  L). ivies,  Maj.-Gen.  W.  F.  Barry,  U.  S.  A., 
 Prof.  D.  II.  Cochran  and  Gen.  J.  W.  Grigsh"}  : 
 
 "Tin:  1  instruction,  and   resulting  discipline,  in   this 
 
 departmenl  mi       be  1    1  l1     but,       -  committee  would   su 
 
 the  importance  oi  (  :amples,  and    that  frequenl   exercise 
 
 in  obtainii  for  the  ap]  >f  the 
 
 formula,    s  1  to   elucidate  the  fn  1  in      re  their 
 
S02  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI, 
 
 ready  and  accurate  application  in  professional  life.  In  the  opinion 
 of  your  committee  the  course  in  Civil  Engineering  would  be 
 strengthened  by  increasing  the  proportion  which  the  field  work  at 
 present  bears  to  the  theoretical  instruction." 
 
 Now,  in  the  light  of  experience,  in  the  light  of 
 common  sense  itself,  I  say,  if  the  American  Universities 
 would  heed  this  idea  of  the  practical — this  idea  of 
 uniting-  manipulative  skill  with  theoretical  instruction 
 in  these  professional  schools,  then  would  teaching  the 
 Exact  Arts  cease  to  be  the  vexed  question  it  is. 
 
 If  the  farmer  produce  by  mistake  articles,  of  a 
 quality  which  others  do  not  want,  or  in  a  quantity  greater 
 than  the  demand  of  the  market,  then  he  suffers  serious 
 loss,  it  may  be  ruin,  by  his  products  rotting  unused.  The 
 necessity  is  equally  great  for  the  professional  schools  to 
 study  closely,  the  markets  for  their  products,  the  demands 
 of  the  industries  and  professions.  They  should  keep 
 in  view,  the  quantity  and  quality  of  the  demands  of  the 
 markets,  when  pointing  out  to  their  students  the  most 
 promising  and  most  important  directions  of  labor  and 
 thought  in  the  industries  and  professions;  should  never 
 loose  sight  of  the  fact  that  they  are  manufacturing  for 
 these  markets. 
 
 For  Americans,  the  best  education  is  an  inspiration 
 more  than  an  acquisition.  It  comes  not  simply  from  in- 
 dustry and  steady  habits,  but  far  more  largely  from  that 
 kindling  and  glowing  zeal  which  is  best  begotten  by 
 familiar  contact  with  large  libraries  and  museums,  and 
 by  constant  intercourse  with  students  of  the  same  pur- 
 suits and  the  same  ambitions  and  with  enthusiastic  speci- 
 alists. It  shows  itself  not  so  much  in  the  amount  the 
 possessor  has  made  himself  master  of,  as  in  the  spirit 
 which  he  takes  what  he  knows  and  goes  out  with  it  to 
 grapple  with  his  life  work.     American  education  is  im- 
 
LECTURE   OF   PROF.   LOWRY.  803 
 
 porta nt,  not  so  much  for  what  it  docs  for  the  pupil,  as 
 for  what  it  enables  him  to  do  for  himself.  The  sooner 
 we  make  a  youth  pursue  a  course  of  culture  for  himself, 
 the  sooner  we  graduate  him  from  our  colleges.  By  pre- 
 paring him  to  take  his  education  into  his  own  hands,  we 
 give  him  the  benefit  of  a  perpetual  self-education.  The 
 pride  of  America  is  her  self-educated  men.  Self-de- 
 termination is  aimed  at  in  our  universities,  not  only  in 
 the  theoretical  sphere,  but  in  the  sphere  of  the  will. 
 Our  best  universities  only  prepare  a  man  to  take  his  ed- 
 ucation into  his  own  hands.  And  he  is  best  prepared 
 for  this,  who  has  the  power  of  exact  and  original 
 thought,  joined  to  the  enthusiastic  spirit.  The  course  of 
 study  which  best  gives  these,  is  a  thorough  k?iowledge% 
 theoretical  and  practical,  of  one  or  two  of  the  subjects 
 of  a  rational  college  curriculum,  added  to  an  elemen- 
 tary hnoxvledge  of  all  its  subjects.  This  7nakes  a 
 richer,  stronger,  and  more  fruitful  mind  than  a  sti-per- 
 fcial  acquaintance  with  each  and  all  of  them.  This,  is 
 the  education  obtained  in  the  professional  school  of  the 
 American  university.  Professional  education;  i.  gives 
 accuracy  of  thought;  2.  it  awakens  a  healthy  and  life- 
 long enthusiasm  for  the  pursuit  of  knowledge;  3.  it  gives 
 versatility,  the  remedy  sought  for  in  the  readjustment 
 of  vocations',  4.  it  conserves  and  improves  our  civiliza- 
 tion. 
 
 Professional  studies  best  give  precision  of  thought 
 and  accurate  knowledge.  Here  knowledge  must  be  put 
 into  practice;  and  no  slip-shod  half-way  knowledge  of  a 
 subject  gives  that  clearness  and  precision  of  thought 
 which  is  necessary  for  putting  this  knowledge  into  prac- 
 tice. "Every  such  study  has  a  practical  bearing,  and  in 
 the  students  mind  is  invested  with  a  strong  sense  of  re- 
 sponsibility.    Hence  springs  an  idea  of  moral  and  phys- 
 
304  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 ical  obligation  to  be  faithful  and  thorough.  The  noblest 
 fruit  of  education  b  this  sense  of  responsibility  nnd  ac- 
 countability. With  its  acquisition  the  vouth  becomes  a 
 man,  the  'unwilling  school-boy'  enters  upon  what  he 
 feels  to  be  the  serious  work  of  life. 
 
 "The  special  merit  oi  an  office  education, — i.  e.,  the 
 training  to  be  gained  in  a  lawyer's,  doctor's,  or  engi- 
 neer's office,  in  the  counting  room,  or  in  a  factory — is 
 due  to  the  fact  that  there  the  student  deals  with  the 
 problems  of  real  and  not  ideal  life.  The  obvious  im- 
 portance of  every  step  in  a  process  stamps  it  ineffaceably 
 upon  the  mind.  This  is  equally  true  of  the  studies  in  a 
 professional  school." 
 
 A  professional  education  awakens  a  healthy  enthu- 
 siasm for  the  pursuit  of  knowledge.  Now,  there  is  in 
 every  branch  of  knowledge  a  beginning,  a  middle,  and 
 an  end.  A  beginning  in  which  the  student  is  striving 
 with  new  and  difficult  principles,  and  is  relying  in  a 
 great  measure  on  the  authority  of  his  instructor;  a  mid- 
 dle in  which  he  has  gained  some  confidence  in  his  own 
 powers,  and  some  power  ot  applying  his  first  principles. 
 He  has  as  yet  no  reason  to  suppose  his  career  can  be 
 checked.  Let  him  proceed,  and  he  will  come  to  what 
 is  called  the  end  of  his  subject,  the  commencement  of  a 
 region  which  has  not  been  tracked  or  surveyed;  and 
 here  his  mind  will  either  come  to  a  dead  stand-still,  or 
 go  forth  on  voyages  of  original  investigation  and  dis- 
 covery. 
 
 What  is  a  student  when  he  graduates  at  our  col- 
 leges? Is  his  education  then  finished?  Is  he  to  pursue 
 no  branch  ol  study  further?  Nay  does  not  a  practical 
 business  career  open  upon  him  immediately?  The  law- 
 yer, physician,  engineer,  or  teacher  in  order  to  be  a  fin- 
 ished   lawyer,   physician,  engineer   or  teacher    must    be 
 
I.ECTURK   OF    PBOF.    LOWEY.  I0S 
 
 able  to  investigate  his  subjects   up  to  the  boundaries   ol 
 knowledge.     Seeing  then  that  the  future  business  of  HJc 
 will    require    knowledge    of  the    way    to    "go    through 
 with"  a  branch  of  inquiry,  T  submit  that  such  a  pro 
 should  form  in  one  instance  at  least,  the  exercise  of  col- 
 lege years.     Convince  the   mind  by   one  example, 
 the    similarity    which    exists    between    all    branches    ol 
 knowledge   will    teach  the  same   truth    for   all.     G<<u   . 
 through  'with  at  least  one  subject,  as  we  do  in  a  pro 
 sional  school,  will    accomplish  a  two-fold   purpose:    [.  it 
 will  awaken  the   mind  to  a  wholesome  and  just  estin 
 of  its  powers;  3.  it  will  imbue  the  mind  with. a   health'. 
 enthusiasm  for  the  pursuit  of  knowledge, — an   enthusi- 
 asm  which    >v i  1 1    enable   the   student  to  carry   his   otl 
 studies   up    into  that   higher  state   of  knowledge  where 
 the  mind  can  effectively  apply  thought  to   its   collected! 
 stores,  and  thus  prepare  it  for  those  sublimest  of  intellec- 
 tual  efforts — discovery   and   invention.     There   is  some- 
 thing inspiring  in  the  upper  regions  of  knowledge  as, 
 the  atmosphere.      And  as  the   old  eagle  takes  her  young 
 eaglets    to    the    mountain  tops    when  training  their, 
 fly,  so  must  the  teacher   take   his   students  up    into 
 higher    regions,   up    to    the    boundaries    of    knowlei 
 when  teaching  them  to  fly, — when  starting  them  out 
 voyages    of    original    investigation,    discovery     and     in- 
 vention. 
 
 Professional  education  gives  versatility.    Experit 
 has  revealed   (and    mental    philosophers    explained) 
 following  phenomenon, — that  men  who  have  given  deep 
 attention  to  one  or  more  liberal   studies  can  learn  to  th< 
 end  of  their  lives,  and  are  able  to  retain  and  apply  very- 
 small   quantities   of    other   kinds    of    knowledge;  while 
 those  who  never  learned  much  of  any  one  thing,  seldom 
 acquire    new    knowledge   after  they  attain    to    years  ot" 
 
-306  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 maturity,  and  frequently  loose  the  greater  part  of  that 
 which  they  once  possessed.  Now,  it  is  the  professional 
 school  of  the  American  University  that  gives  deep  at- 
 tention to  one  or  more  studies,  that  gives  a  thorough 
 knowledge  theoretical  and  practical  of  one  or  two  of  the 
 "subjects  of  a  rational  curriculum,  added  to  an  elementary 
 knowledge  of  all  its  subjects,  therefore,  it  is  this  profes- 
 sional school  that  best  gives  versatility. 
 
 Professional  education  best  conserves  and  improves 
 >ur  civilization,  because:  i.  It  gives  precision  of  thought, 
 and  awakens  enthusiasm,  and  thus  meets  the  ends  of 
 true  culture;  2.  It  secures  the  highest  skilled  activity  of 
 each  individual,  and  gives  him  versatility  in  life's  activi- 
 ties, 3.  It  gives  a  knowledge,  theoretical  and  practical, 
 of  those  sciences  and  arts  in  which  civilization  rests. 
 
 But  is  it  objected  that  students  and  professors  in 
 these  professional  schools  will  become  hardened  one- 
 sided bigots?  This  is  impossible  for  a  mind  which 
 breathes  the  liberalizing  atmosphere  of  a  university  of 
 associated  professional  schools.  By  mere  absorption  it 
 will  get  enough  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  this.  It 
 certainly  cannot  be  logically  argued  that  because  a  mind 
 appreciates  the  grandeur  and  harmony  of  Astronomy 
 that  its  eye  shall  necessarily  grow  dim  and  its  ear  dull  to 
 the  harmony  and  beauties  of  the  workings  of  the  forces 
 of  the  physical  and  chemical  sciences.  And  this  liber- 
 alizing atmosphere  extends  even  beyond  the  walks  and 
 walls  of  our  universities, — it  is  diffused  through  our  edu- 
 cated communities.  This  free  commerce  of  ideas  be- 
 tween the  minds  of  all  men  goes  constantly  on,  in  the 
 most  active,  subtile  ways,  with  effects  the  most  salutary. 
 There  is  no  kind  of  property  which  is  not  in  some  de- 
 gree made  more  valuable  by  every  educated  mind  in  its 
 vicinity.     Whoever  will  trace  out  this  subject  in  all  its 
 
IjECturb  of  prof,  lowry.  307 
 
 bearings,  and  will  add  up  its  results  will  find  that  its 
 sum  will  be  equal  to  the  difference,  between  a  civilized 
 and  savage  community. 
 
 He  who  reads  human  society  the  deepest,  sees  it  the 
 clearest  that  those  handmaids  of  liberty,  the  press,  the 
 pulpit,  the  bar,  and  the  industrial,  the  fine,  and  the  engi- 
 neering arts  are  the  world's  great  civilizers.  It  is  the 
 combined  influence  of  these,  and  not  the  desolation  of 
 successful  war,  which  has  planted  and  upheld  the  stand- 
 ard of  christian  civilization  at  the  ends  of  the  earth. 
 Have  not  the  industrial  arts  won  man  from  his  nomadic 
 wanderings  and  poured  into  the  lap  of  industry  the  ma- 
 terial comforts  and  luxuries  of  civilization?  Have  not 
 the  fine  arts  refined  the  tastes,  purified  and  ennobled  the 
 aspirations  and  fired  the  soul  on  to  the  accomplishment 
 of  the  sublimest  efforts  of  human  genius?  And  what 
 shall  we  say  of  the  engineering  arts,  which  have 
 spanned  the  great  rivers,  scaled  the  mountain  tops,  and 
 united  the  two  oceans;  and,  by  thus  cementing  our 
 Union,  upheld  at  once  and  perpetuated  our  national 
 unity  and  our  country's  freedom.  Surveyors  and  engi- 
 neers are  the  artificers  of  the  great  commercial  arteries 
 and  veins  of  the  earth.  While  other  great  influences 
 are  the  vis  viva,  the  living  moving  forces  which  impel 
 the  commercial  blood  of  the  world,  yet  their's  are  the 
 arts,  which  render  its  circulation  possible,  which  carve 
 out  the  channels  for  the  world's  commerce  on  land;  and, 
 at  sea,  render  its  circulation  safe  by  furnishing  charts  of 
 coasts  and  piloting  it  from  port  to  port.  Their  counsel 
 is  sought,  their  skill  is  required  in  war  as  well  as  in 
 peace.  The  successful  general  requires  the  skill  of  the 
 surveyor's  pencil  to  delineate  the  topography  of  the 
 ground  over  which  he  is  to  manoeuvre  or  fight.. 
 Topographical    maps   were   the   faithful   counselors    of 
 
808  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 Napoleon  I.  Tt  was  with  these,  and  not  his  assembled 
 marshals,  that  he  held  his  councils  of  war  on  the  eve  ot 
 every  great  campaign,  manoeuvre,  or  battle.  And  the 
 parts  which  topographical  charts  played  in  our  civil  war 
 would  furnish  the  richest  pages  of  its  unwritten  history. 
 Their  want,  would  go  far  toward  explaining  many  of 
 the  reverses  to  the  federal  arms  in  '6i  and  ^62,  and  their 
 use,  many  of  their  successes  in  '63  and  '64.  And  the 
 statesman  finds  in  engineers  his  most  powerful  instru- 
 ments for  bringing  about  his  designs;  they  enable  him 
 to  regulate  the  speed  of  the  wheel  of  progress, — by 
 with-holding  their  influence  the  car  of  progress  stops. 
 
 At  the  close  of  our  Civil  war  what  did  we  find? 
 Our  nation  torn  into  bloody  fragments.  The  work  of 
 the  warrior,  it  is  true,  was  done;  but  the  work  of  the 
 statesman  was  just  begun.  The  work  of  propping  the 
 bloody  fragments  of  our  nation  together  with  bayonets 
 was  indeed  accomplished;  but  the  work  of  cementing 
 them  together  was  to  be  conceived  and  executed.  The 
 statesmen  of  that  day  took  in  the  problem,  and  by  a 
 bold  and  admirable  stroke  of  statesmanship  solved  it. 
 They  lent  national  aid  to  gigantic  enterprises  of  perme- 
 ating the  nation,  in  every  direction,  writh  great  commer- 
 cial arteries,  veins,  and  nerves,  railroads  those  and  these 
 the  telegraph  wires — till  state  was  knit  to  state  the  na- 
 tion over.  But  this  idea  was  not  new  or  original  with 
 the  statesmen  of  1S65.  Jefferson  conceived  it  and  every 
 President  from  him  up  to  Jackson  reiterated  and  advoca- 
 ted it.  Jefferson,  in  his  third  annual  message  to  Congress, 
 uses  this  language:  "By  building  roads  and  canals  and 
 improving  rivers,  new  channels  of  commercial  commu- 
 nication and  social  intercourse  will  be  opened  between 
 the  states;  the  lines  of  separation  will  disappear;  their 
 interests  will    be  identified,  and  their  union  cemented  by 
 
LECTURE   OF   PROF.    I,OWRY.  H<)9 
 
 new  and  indissoluble  ties."'  Calhoun  says,  "Use  strongest 
 of  all  cements  of  our  bodies  politic  are  the  roads,  canals, 
 rivers,  the  press,  and  the  mails.  Whatever  impedes  the 
 intercourse  of  the  different  states  of  our  Republic 
 weakens  their  union.  The  more  enlarged  the  sphere  of 
 commercial  circulation — the  more  extended  that  of  social 
 intercourse — the  more  strongly  are  we  bound  together — 
 the  more  inseperable  are  our  destinies." 
 
 Now,  these  ideas  accord  with  human  reason.  For, 
 those  who  understand  the  human  heart  best,  know  how 
 powerfully  distance  tends  to  break  the  sympathies  of  our 
 nature.  Nothing — not  even  dissimilarity  of  language — 
 tends  more  to  estrange  man  from  man.  Can  we  not, 
 then,  see  clearly  how  railroads  and  telegraph  wires,  by 
 annihilating  space,  have  bound  our  Republic  together. 
 
 The  engineering  arts  are  the  keys  to  the  mystery  of 
 that  liberal  commerce  which  connects  by  golden  chains 
 the  interests  of  mankind.  Now,  give  me  the  power  of 
 cutting  off,  at  will,  the  knowledge  of  the  engineering 
 arts  and  I  will  shake  the  world — will  make  every  na- 
 tion on  the  face  of  the  earth  quake  from  centre  to  cir- 
 cumference. Give  me  the  command  of  the  engineers 
 and  astronomers  of  earth  and  I  will  at  one  fell  sti'oke 
 paralyze  the  commerce  of  the  world  on  land  and  at  sea: 
 And,  will  weaken  the  power  that  binds  these  states  till  it 
 is  weaker  than  a  rope  of  sand;  till  revolutions  sweep 
 over  this  nation  like  troubled  visions  o'er  the  breast  of 
 dreaming  sorrow;  till  contending  armies  and  states  rise 
 and  sink  like  bubbles  on  the  water.  To  us  Americans 
 then  can  anything  be  indifferent  that  respects  the  cause 
 of  the  engineering  arts,  when  we  have  used  them  in  civ- 
 ilizing our  country  and  cementing  our  union.  Ah,  sirs, 
 is  it  not  a  burning  shame  that  these  engineering  arts, 
 which  contribute  so  powerfully  to  the  improvement  of 
 
310  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 our  country  and  race,  which  arc  absolutely  necessary  to 
 our  national  preservation,  arc  not  an  educational  care  of 
 all  the  great  Universities  of  our  land. 
 
 The  lights  of  applied  science  are  now  upon  the 
 mountain  tops;  the  waves  and  winds  of  error  and  fanati- 
 cism beat  upon  them!  Who  shall  keep  them?  You 
 teachers  of  applied  science,  you  gentlemen  of  the  pro- 
 fessional schools,  are  the  watchmen.  Keep  these  vestal 
 fires  burning.  And,  on  the  night  of  December  31, 
 1899,  as  the  clock  of  heaven  rings  out  the  old  and  rings 
 in  the  new  century,  when  from  out  the  storm  and  dark- 
 ness comes  the  A^oice  of  Liberty  ringing  abroad,  "watch- 
 men, what  of  the  night?"  we'll  send  the  answer  back  to 
 heaven,"  12  o'clock  and  all  is  well." 
 
 P.  S.:  Much  of  the  material  of  this  lecture  is  I 
 believe  new;  and  much  of  the  remainder  can  lay  claim 
 to  whatever  originality  there  is  involved  in  "using  old 
 facts  in  new  circumstances."  I  have  extracted  largely 
 from  the  Writings  of  Presidents  Gilman,  Eliot,  and 
 Laws,  and  Professors  E.  L.  Youmans,  W.  T.  Harris, 
 Bain,  and  Herbert  Spencer.  My  reason  for  not  always 
 giving  them  credit  on  the  spot  when  using  their  ideas 
 and  language,  was  that,  in  dissecting  these  from  their 
 context,  and  adapting  and  fitting  them  into  the  context 
 above,  I  have  oftener  misrepresented,  than  truthfully 
 represented,  what  they  intended  to  say. 
 
 In  conclusion,  it  is  perhaps  proper  to  state  that 
 while  in  college,  I  read  the  entire  Latin  course  (and 
 part  of  the  Greek)  as  laid  down  by  our  western  univer- 
 sities. T.  J.  L. 
 
ART,  THE  IDEAL  OF  ART  AND  THE  UTIL- 
 ITY OF  ART. 
 
 By  Georgk  C.   Bingham,  Pkofessor  of  Drawing 
 in  thh  University  of  the  .State  of  Missouri. 
 
 (From  the  Missouri  Statesman,  March  7 1 1 1 ,  1879.) 
 In  consequence  of  a  severe   attack  of  pneumonia,  which  con- 
 lined  Prof.   Bingham  1<>  his  room,  at  his  request  the   lecture 
 read  by  his  friend  Maj.  Rollins,  president  of  the  board  of  curator.?.. 
 After  a  few  preliminary    and  appropriate  remarks  by  Dr.  Laws,  in 
 which  he  referred  to  the  fact  that  this  -was  the  first  and  only  public 
 recognition   which  had   been  given  to  the  Fine  Arts  in  the  institu- 
 tion since   its  firs!   organization,  and  expressing   the    wish    that  im 
 the  future  good  results  would  flow  from  it  in  the  permanent  estab- 
 lishment of  a  School  of  Design  and  of  Art  in  the  University 
 introduced  to  the  audience  the  reader  of  the  lecture,  who  after  ex-  • 
 pressing  his    very  great    regret   for  the   cause    which    kept   treri. 
 Bingham  away   from   the  meeting,   proceeded  to  make   some  very 
 complimentary  remarks  in  reference  to  the  high  character  of  that 
 gentleman  as  a  citizen  of  Missouri,  and   one  of  the   most    eminent 
 artists  of  our  country.     Evidences  of  his  wonderful  genius   were- 
 to  be  seen  in  the  capitol  of  the  state,  and    indeed  in   many  parts  ©i 
 the  countr;.    wherever  a  taste   for  the   fine  arts   had    received   any 
 attention. 
 
 Maj.  R.  said  it  had  been  his  good  fortune  to  know  Prof.  Bing- 
 ham for  nearly  forty-five  years,  since  their  young  manhood,  as 
 intimate  friends  and  companions,  and  he  could  say  with  entire 
 truth  that  he  had  never  known  a  purer  or  belter  man,  one  of  whom 
 any  commonwealth  might  feel  justly  proud.     Although   no  ai 
 
Si2  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 .self,  but  having  a  great  fondness  for  pictures,  in   the  course  of 
 xtended   remarks   he  commented  freely  upon    sonic  of  the 
 
 paintings  before  the  audience,  and  others,  also  the  productions   of 
 
 :     genius,   and   which  had   won   for  him  great  distinction  in  the 
 
 world    of    Art.     He    spoke   of  the   great    moral    effect    of  all    his 
 
 ks,  and  wherein  a    number  of  them  so  handsomely  illustrated 
 
 the  character  and  habits  of  Western  life,  and  others  of  them  illus- 
 
 ed  with  inimitable  skill,  the  free   institutions  under  which  we 
 
 live;  these   monuments  of  hi-  genius   and  artistic  skill  would  live 
 
 and  be  admired,  when  it    may  be  the  institutions  themselves    shall 
 
 Slave  perished.     Maj.  R.  referred   to  a  number  of  interestin       .   ts 
 
 in  reference  to  the  early  history  of  this  part  of  the  state,  and  also 
 
 told    several    anecdotes   which  were    very  much  relish   d   by    his 
 
 i  ers. 
 
 In  proceeding  to  read  the  lecture  of  Prof.  Bingham,  he  said  it 
 -•■■■■  dile  to  that  gentleman  to  say  that  it  had  been  hastily  pre- 
 d  in  a  few  day-,  and  had  not  been  even  recopied. 
 The  subject  of  the  lecture' was  "Art,  the  Ideal  of  Aim,  and  the 
 Utility  of  Art."  It  was  read  so  that  every  one  in  the  audience 
 heard  it  distinctly,  enjoyed  it,  and  was  greatly  instructed  by  it. 
 The  -  written  in  the  clear  anil  strong  style  which  marks 
 
 e  productions  of  Prof.  Bingham's  pen,  chaste  and  classical  in 
 all  his  allusions  to  ancient  and  modern  art,  and  artists,  and  main- 
 taining his  position  with  an  argument  and  logic  which  seemed  un- 
 erable.  The  evening  passed  off  most  pleasantly,  and  we  are 
 gratified  to  sec  so  much  interest  manifested  in  the  subject  of  the 
 Fine  Arts  by  the  young  gentlemen  and   ladies  of  the   University. 
 
 Bingham  died  in  Kansas  City,  July  7,    [879,  in   th<    1     ■  < 
 f  his  age.     The  following  is  his  lecture:] 
 
 ies,  Gentlemen  and  Students  of  the  University : 
 
 1  have  been   requested   by   our    worthy  president    to 
 
 ■embody  in   a  brief  lecture,  and  present   to   you  some  of 
 
 th-c  views  on  Art  which  I  have  been  led  to  entertain 
 
 from  many  years  of  practice   and  experience  and  famili- 
 
 with  the  works  of  many  of  its  most  eminent  profes- 
 
 We  are  all  naturally  disposed  to  prefer  that  mode 
 
 cpression  by  which  we  can   communicate  to  others, 
 
 •most  forcibly  and  clearly,  the  thought  to  which  we  are 
 
LECTURE    OF   PROF.    BINGHAM.  313 
 
 prompted  to  give  utterance.  Hence  artists  have  gener- 
 ally been  averse  to  giving  a  mere  verbal  expression  to 
 ideas  which  they  are  able  to  present  in  a  far  more  satis- 
 factory manner,  with  the  pencil  or  chisel.  It  is  doubt- 
 less owing  to  this  reluctance  on  their  part  that  the  lite- 
 rature of  their  profession  is  chiefly  the  product  of 
 theorists  who  can  err  in  safety  under  the  silence  of  those 
 who  alone  have  the  ability  to  correct  them.  These 
 theorists  are  often  laboriously  ambiguous  even  in  their 
 definition  of  Art. 
 
 Micheal  Angelo,  whose  sublime  and  unrivaled  pro- 
 ductions, both  in  painting  and  sculpture,  certainly  entitle 
 him  to  be  regarded  as  good  authority  in  all  that  related 
 to  Art,  clearly  and  unhesitatingly  designates  it  as  "The 
 imitation  of  nature." 
 
 The  Oxford  student,  however,  who  ranks  as  the 
 ablest  and  most  popular  writer  upon  the  subject,  under- 
 takes to  convince  his  readers  that  the  imitation  of  nature 
 so  far  from  beins;  Art,  is  not  even  the  language  of  Art. 
 He  boldly  goes  still  further  and  asserts  that  the  more 
 perfect  the  imitation  the  less  it  partakes  of  the  character 
 of  genuine  Art.  He  takes  the  position  that  Art  to  be 
 genuine  must  be  true,  and  that  an  imitation  of  nature  so 
 perfect  as  to  produce  an  illusion,  and  thereby  make  us 
 believe  that  a  thing  is  what  it  really  is  not,  gives  expres- 
 sion to  a  falsehood,  and  cannot  therefore  be  justly  re- 
 garded as  genuine  Art,  an  essential  quality  of  which  is 
 truth. 
 
 Such  logic  may  be  convincing  to  the  minds  of  those 
 admirers  who  regard  him  as  an  oracle  upon  any  sub- 
 ject which  he  chooses  to  touch  with  his  pen.  But  in  all 
 candor  it  seems  to  me  to  be  merely  on  a  par  with  that  of 
 a  far  less  distinguished  character,  who,  travelling  with  a 
 companion  along  the  banks  of  a   river,  undertook,  for  a 
 
3*4  UNIVERSITY    OK    MISSOURI. 
 
 vyager,  to  convince  him  that  the  side  of  the  river  on 
 which  they  were  journeying  was  really  the  other  side. 
 He  did  it  by  stating;  as  his  postulate  that  the  river  had 
 two  sides,  and  as  the  side  opposite  to  them  was  one  of 
 these  sides,  the  side  on  which  they  were  traveling  was 
 necessarily  the  other  side.  Truth  and  such  logic  arc  not 
 always  in  harmony. 
 
 The  well  known  story  of"  Zenxas  and  Appeles,  two 
 of  the  most  famous  painters  of  ancient  Greece,  has  been 
 handed  down  to  us  through  the  intervening  ages.  Being 
 rivals  and  alike  ambitious  of  distinction,  a  challenge 
 passed  between  them  for  a  trial  of  their  skill.  One 
 painted  a  picture  of  grapes  so  perfect  in  its  imitation  of 
 that  luscious  fruit,  that  the  birds  of  the  air  flocked  to 
 partake  of  them  as  a  servant  was  carrying  the  picture  to 
 the  place  of  exhibition.  The  other  merely  painted 
 upon  his  canvass  a  curtain,  but  so  perfect  was  its  resem- 
 blance to  a  real  curtain,  that  his  rival  stretched  forth  his 
 hand  to  remove  it  in  order  to  get  a  view  of  the  supposed 
 picture  beneath.  Such  an  adherence  to  nature,  and  I 
 may  add  to  the  truth  of  nature,  constitutes  what  should 
 properly  be  called  the  truth  of  Art;  that  Art  only 
 which  belies  nature  is  false  Art. 
 
 These  imitations  are  recorded  in  the  literature  of 
 that  classic  period,  as  evidence  of  the  excellence  in  Art 
 by  which  it  was  characterized.  We  arc  loth  to  suppose 
 in  an  age  made  illustrious  by  the  highest  civilization 
 which  the  world  had  then  attained,  and  surrounded  by 
 works  of  Art  which  coming  ages  will  never  surpass, 
 great  statesmen,  scholars,  artists,  and  literary  men  could 
 have  been  so  far  mistaken  in  regard  to  the  true  nature  of 
 Art,  as  to  recognize  as  an  excellence  therein,  that  which 
 was  really  a  defect. 
 
 About  the  close  of  the  war  of  [812  one  of  the  "rcat 
 
liKCTURE    OF    1'ROF.    BINGHAM.  815 
 
 naval  conflicts  between  the  British  and  American  fleets 
 was  dramatized  upon  the  stage  in  the  city  of  Baltimore. 
 The  scenery  was  arranged  with  all  the  skill  which  the 
 most  consummate  Art  could  bestow  upon  it.  Even  the 
 movements  of  the  vessels  and  the  motion  of  the  waves 
 were  closely  imitated.  An  unsophisticated  sailor  who 
 had  participated  in  such  conflicts,  happened  to  be  seated 
 in  the  pit  as  one  of  the  audience.  Becoming  absorbed 
 in  what  was  transpiring  before  him,  to  an  extent  which 
 banished  all  idea  of  mere  stage  effect  from  his  mind,  he 
 thought  lie  saw  one  of  our  vessels  beclouded  with  smoke, 
 and  threatened  with  destruction  by  the  enemies'  fleet. 
 His  patriotism  rose  above  all  considerations  of  personal 
 safety.  He  could  not  rest  without  an  effort  to  transmit 
 to  the  imperilled  vessel  a  knowledge  of  the  danger  by 
 which  it  was  threatened.  This  could  only  be  done  by 
 taking  to  the  water,  he  being  an  excellent  swimmer. 
 He  sprang  up  with  great  excitement,  and  approaching 
 the  ^tage  and  shedding  his  linen  as  he  went,  he  plunged 
 head  foremost  into  what  he  took  to  be  water,  but  it 
 being  only  a  well  devised  imitation  of  that  element  he 
 went  through  it  to  the  basement  about  twenty  feet  be- 
 low, leaving  our  vessel  to  its  fate.  What  man  of  ordi- 
 nary intelligence  will  venture  to  affirm  that  scenic  Art 
 thus  so  nearly  resembling  the  reality  of  nature  is  less 
 Art  on  that  account? 
 
 More  than  once  in  my  own  experience  portraits 
 painted  by  myself,  and  placed  in  windows  facing  the  sun 
 to  expedite  their  drying,  have  been  mistaken  for  the 
 originals  by  persons  outside,  and  spoken  to  as  such.  Such 
 occurrences  doubtless  mark  the  experience  of  nearly 
 every  portrait  painter;  but  none  of  them  ever  dreamed 
 that  the  temporary  deception  thus  produced  lessened  the 
 artistic  merit  of  such  works.   The  great  ability  of  Ruskin 
 
816  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 as  a  writer  is  generally  and  justly  conceded.  He  has 
 performed  a  great  work  for  artists  of  his  own  age  in  de- 
 stroying that  reverence  for  the  works  of  the  old  masters 
 which  has  attributed  to  them  an  excellence  entirely  be- 
 yond the  reach  of  modern  genius.  But  no  artist  can  safely 
 accept  his  teachings  as  an  infallible  guide.  Artists  who 
 expect  to  rise  to  anything  like  eminence  in  their  profes- 
 sion, must  study  nature  in  all  her  varied  phases,  and  ac- 
 cept her  both  a?  his  model  and  teacher.  He  may  consid- 
 er every  theory  which  may  be  advanced  upon  tl  ■  subject 
 nearest  to  his  heart,  but  he  must  trust  his  own  eyes  and 
 never  surrender  the  deliberate  and  matured  conclusions 
 of  his  own  judgment  to  any  authority  however  high. 
 
 What  I  mean  by  the  imitation  of  nature  is  the  por- 
 traiture of  her  charms  as  she  appears  to  the  eye  of  the 
 artist.  A  pictorial  statement  which  gives  lis  distant 
 trees,  the  leaves  of  which  are  all  seperately  and  distinctly 
 marked,  is  no  imitation  of  nature.  She  never  thus  pre- 
 sents herself  to  our  organs  of  vision.  Space  and  atmos- 
 phere, light  and  shadow,  stamp  their  impress  on  all  that 
 we  see  in  the  extended  fields  which  she  opens  to  our 
 view,  and  an  omission  to  present  upon  our  canvass  a 
 graphic  resemblance  of  the  appearances  thus  produced, 
 makes  it  fall  short  of  that  truth  which  should  charac- 
 terize every  work  of  Art.  But  while  I  insist  that  the 
 imitation  of  nature  is  an  essential  quality  of  Art,  I  by 
 no  means  wish  to  be  understood  as  meaning  that  any  and 
 every   imitation  of  nature  is  a  work  of  Art. 
 
 Art  is  the  outward  expression  of  the  esthetic  senti- 
 ment produced  in  the  mind  by  the  contemplation  of  the 
 grand  and  beautiful  in  nature,  and  it  is  the  imitation  in 
 Art  of  that  which  creates  this  sentiment  that  constitutes 
 its  expression.  The  imitation  is  the  word  which  utters 
 the  sentiment.     No  Artist  need  apprehend  that  any  imi- 
 
I1ECTURE   OF    PBOF,    BINGHAM.  317 
 
 tation  of  nature  within  the  possibilities  of  his  power  will 
 
 long-  be  taken  for  what  it  is  not.  There  are  attributes  of 
 nature  which  the  highest  Art  can  never  possess.  In  the 
 younger  days  of  Micheal  Angelo,  soon  after  his  rapidly 
 developing  genius  had  been  noised  abroad,  he  visited  the 
 studio  ot  an  aged  sculptor  in  Florence  while  he  was  en- 
 gaged in  giving  the  finishing  touches  to  the  last  and  no- 
 blest of  his  works.  The  old  man  wishing  to  have  an 
 expression  of  his  judgment  upon  it,  exposed  it  fully  to 
 his  view  allowing  the  most  favorable  light  to  fall  upon  it. 
 The  young  Angelo  contemplated  it  for  many  minutes 
 with  wrapped  attention,  no  word  passing  from  his  lips. 
 At  length  turning  upon  his  heel  he  said  it  lacks  one  thing, 
 and  immediately  disappeared.  His  words  fell  as  a  death 
 blow  upon  the  ears  of  the  old  man.  He  had  bestowed 
 upon  the  work  the  results  of  his  life-long  study  in.  the 
 confident  expectation  that  it  would  transmit  his  name  to 
 posterity,  and  associate  him  in  history  with  the  greatest 
 Artists  of  his  day.  He  became  gloomy  and  despondent, 
 soon  sickened  and  was  laid  on  his  death-bed.  Learning 
 that  Micheal  Angelo  was  again  in  his  vicinity  he  sent 
 him  a  message  inviting  him  to  visit  him.  When  the 
 young  sculptor  appeared  in  his  presence  he  reminded 
 him  of  the  remark  which  he  had  made  at  the  close  of 
 their  previous  interview,  and  earnestly  entreated  him  to 
 name  the  one  thing  lacking  in  what  he  had  fondly  re- 
 garded as  the  crowning  work  of  his  life.  I  meant,  said 
 the  younger  artist,  that  it  lacked  the  gift  of  speech  and 
 that  only !  We  can  well  imagine  the  new  life  which,  at 
 these  words  instantly  sprang  up  in  the  soul  of  the  gifted 
 old  man,  smoothing  his  passage  to  that  upper  and  better 
 life  to  be  associated  forever  with  all  who  love  the  true 
 and  the  beautiful, 
 
 As  the  powers  of  man  are  limited  so  i^  Art  necessa- 
 
318  UNIVERSITY    OK    MISSOURI. 
 
 rily  limited  in  its  domain.  It  can  only  embody  those  ap- 
 pearances of  nature  which  are  addressed  to  the  eye  and 
 exhibited  in  form  and  color.  Like  the  work  of  the 
 grand  old  Florentine  sculptor  it  can  faithfully  present 
 the  human  form  in  all  its  symmetry  and  beauty,  but  it  can 
 not  breathe  into  that  form  a  living  soul  or  endow  it  with 
 speech  and  motion,  It  can  give  us  the  hue  and  forms  of 
 hills,  mountains,  lakes  and  rivers,  or  old  ocean,  whether 
 in  calm,  sunshine  or  storm,  but  all  that  we  see  in. 
 these  results  of  limited  {)ower  is  alike  motionless  and 
 voiceless.  Their  is  no  murmuring  in  their  brooks  as 
 they  seem  to  encounter  the  rocks  in  their  passage.  Their 
 clouds  are  stationary  in  their  skies,  their  suns  and 
 moons  never  rise  or  set.  There  is  no  sound  of  lowing 
 coming  from  their  flocks  and  herds.  All  is  silent  and 
 still,  and  being  so  can  never  be  mistaken  for  actual  na- 
 ture. Nevertheless  that  Art  which,  within  the  limited 
 sphere  of  Art,  most  nearly  resembles  actual  nature,  most 
 clearly  expresses  the  sentiment  which  actual  nature  pro- 
 duces in  the  minds  of  those  who  have  the  taste  to  relish 
 her  beauties.  Ruskin,  with  all  his  verbal  powers  of 
 description,  failed  as  an  artist,  and  I  have  no  hesitation 
 in  affirming  that  any  man  who  does  not  regard  the  imi- 
 tation of  nature  as  the  great  essential  quality  of  Art  will 
 never  make  an  artist. 
 
 THE  IDEAL  IN    ART. 
 
 There  are  various  and  conflicting  opinions  as  to 
 what  constitutes  the  ideal  in  Art.  In  the  minds  of  those 
 liberally  endowed  artists  whose  productions  exhibit  a 
 wide  range  of  thought,  it  seems  to  my  judgment  to  be 
 that  general  and  much  embracing  idea  necessarily  de- 
 rived from  the  love  and  study  of  nature  in  her  varied  and 
 multitudinous  aspects,  as  presented  in  form  and  color. 
 It  must,  however,  be  necessarily  limited  by  the  taste  of 
 
LECTURE   OF    PROF.    BINGHAM.  319 
 
 the  artist,  which  may  confine  him  to  what  is  .special 
 rather  than  to  what  is  general  in  nature.  I  sa3'  it  may- 
 be limited  and  contracted  by  the  taste  of  the  artist.  Ar- 
 tists permit  themselves  to  be  absorbed  only  by  what  they 
 love.  And  as  nature  presents  herself  to  them  in  a 
 thousand  phases,  they  may  worship  her  in  few  or  many. 
 Such  of  her  phases  as  take  possession  of  their  affections 
 also  take  possession  of  their  minds,  and  form  thereon 
 their  ideal,  it  matters  not  whether  it  be  animate  or  inan- 
 imate nature,  or  a  portion  of  either.  A  Landseer  is  cap- 
 tivated by  the  faithfulness,  habits  and  hairy  texture  of 
 dogs,  and  makes  them  his  specialty  in  Art,  being  ken- 
 nelled in  his  mind,  as  it  were,  they  exclude  other  sub- 
 jects of  Art  and  become  the  ideal  which  governs  his 
 pencil.  When  Sidney  Smith  was  requested  by  a  friend 
 to  sit  to  Landseer  for  his  portrait  he  replied,  uts  thy  ser- 
 vant a  dog  that  he  should  do  this  thing?"  His  reply 
 was  significant  of  the  apprehension  justly  entertained 
 that  the  artist  could  not  avoid  giving  to  his  portrait 
 something  of  the  expression  which  more  properly  be- 
 longed to  his  favorites  of  the  canine  species.  Rosa 
 Bonhier,  early  in  life,  fell  in  love  with  the  kine  which 
 furnishes  us  all,  with  the  milk,  butter  and  cheese  which 
 form  so  large  a  portion  of  the  aliment  which  sustains 
 our  physical  frames.  In  living  with  them  and  caressing 
 them,  their  forms  and  habits  took  possession  of  her  mind 
 as  they  had  done  of  her  heart,  and  formed  that  ideal, 
 which  makes  her  pictures  of  cattle  far  transcend  in  ex- 
 cellence those  of  Paul  Potter  or  any  of  her  predecessors. 
 I  cannot  believe  that  the  ideal  in  Art,  as  is  supposed 
 by  many,  is  a  specific  mental  form  existing  in  the  mind 
 of  the  artist  more  perfect  than  any  prototype  in  nature, 
 and  that  to  be  a  great  artist  he  must  look  within  him  for 
 a  model  and  close  his  eyes  upon   external  nature.     Such 
 
920  UNIVERSITY    OV   MISSOURI. 
 
 a  mental  form  would  be  a  fixed  and  determined  idea,  ad- 
 mitting of  no  variations,  such  as  we  find  in  diversified 
 nature  and  in  the  works  of  artists  most  distinguished  in 
 their  profession.  An  artist  guided  by  such  a  form  would 
 necessarily  repeat  in  every  work  exactly  the  same  lines 
 and  the  same  expression. 
 
 To  the  beautiful  belongs  an  endless  variety,  ft  is  seen 
 not  only  in  symmetry  and  elegance  of  form,  in  youth 
 and  health,  but  is  often  quite  as  fully  apparent  in  de- 
 crepit old  age.  It  is  found  in  the  cottage  of  the  peasant 
 as  well  as  in  the  palace  of  kings.  It  is  seen  in  all  the 
 relations,  domestic  and  municipal,  of  a  virtuous  people, 
 and  in  all  that  harmonizes  man  with  his  Creator.  The 
 id<  il  of  the  great  artist,  therefore,  embraces  all  of  the 
 beautiful  which  presents  itself  in  form  and  color, 
 whether  characterized  by  elegance  and  symmetry  or  by 
 any  quality  within  the  wide  and  diversified  domain  of 
 the  beautiful.  Mere  symmetiy  of  form  finds  no  place 
 in  the  works  of  Rembrant,  Teniers,  Ostade,  and  others 
 of  a  kindred  school.  Their  men  and  women  fall  im- 
 measurably below  that  order  of  beauty  which  charac- 
 terizes the  sculptures  of  classic  Greece.  But  they  ad- 
 dress themselves  none  the  less  to  our  love  of  the  beauti- 
 ful, and  none  the  less  tend  to  nourish  the  development 
 and  growth  of  those  tastes  which  prepare  us  for  the  en- 
 joyment of  that  higher  life  which  is  to  begin  when  our 
 mortal  existence  shall  end. 
 
 All  the  thought  which  in  the  course  of  my  studies, 
 I  have  been  able  to  give  to  the  subject,  has  led  me  to 
 conclude  that  the  ideal  in  Art  is  but  the  impressions 
 made  upon  the  mind  of  the  artist  b}-  the  beautiful  or 
 Art  subjects  in  external  nature,  and  that  our  Art  power 
 is  the  ability  to  receive  and  retain  these  impressions  .so 
 clearly   and   distinctly   as   to  be   able  to  duplicate  them 
 
IjECTURE    OF    PROF.   BINGHAM.  321 
 
 upon  our  canvas.  So  far  from  these  impressions  thus 
 engraved  upon  our  memory  being  superior  to  nature, 
 they  are  but  the  creatures  of  nature,  and  depend  upon 
 her  for  existence  as  fully  as  the  image  in  a  minor  de- 
 pends upon  that  which  is  before  it.  It  is  true  that  a 
 work  of  Art  emulating  from  these  impressions  may  he, 
 and  generally  is,  tinged  by  some  peculiarity  belonging  to 
 the  mind  of  the  artist,  just  as  some  mirrors  by  a  slight 
 convex  in  their  surface  give  reflections  which  do  not 
 exactly  accord  with  the  objects  hefore.  them.  Yet  any 
 obvious  and  radical  departure  from  its  prototypes  in 
 nature  will  justly  condemn  it  as  a  wink  of  Art. 
 
 I  have  frequently  been  told,  in  conversation  with 
 persons  who  have  obtained  their  ideas  of  Art  from  hooks, 
 that  an  artist  should  give  to  his  productions  something 
 more  than  nature  presents  to  the  eye.  That  in  painting 
 a  portrait  for  instance,  he  should  not  be  satisfied  with 
 giving  a  true  delineation  of  the  form  and  features  of 
 his  subject,  with  all  the  lines  of  his  face  which  mark 
 his  individuality,  but  in  addition  to  these  should  impart 
 to  his  work  the  soul  of  his  sitter.  \  cannot  but  think 
 that  this  is  exacting  from  an  art  is:  that  which  rather 
 transcends  the  limits  of  his  powers,  great  as  they  may 
 be.  As  for  myself,  1  must  confess,  that  if  my  life  and 
 even  my  eternal  salvation  depended  upon  such  an 
 achievement,  I  would  look  forward  to  nothing  better  than 
 death  and  everlasting  misery,  in  that  place  prepared  for 
 the  unsaved.  According  to  all  of  our  existing  ideas  of 
 a  soul,  there  is  nothing  material  in  its  composition.  The 
 manufacture,  therefore,  of  such  a  thing  out  of  the 
 earthen  pigments  which  lie  upon  my  palate  would  be  a 
 miracle  entitling  me  to  rank  as  the  equal  of  the 
 Almighty  himself.  Even  if  I  could  perform  such  a 
 miracle,  I  would  be  robbing  my  sitter  of  the  most  valua 
 
322  UNIVERSITY    OP   MISSOURI. 
 
 ble  part  of  his  nature  and  giving'  it  to  the  work  of  my 
 own  hands.  There  are  lines  which  are  to  be  seen  on 
 every  man's  face  which  indicate  to  a  certain  extent  the 
 nature  of  the  spirit  within  him.  But  these  lines  are  not 
 the  spirit  which  they  indicate  any  more  than  the  sign 
 above  the  entrance  to  a  store  is  the  merchandize  within. 
 These  lines  upon  the  face  embody  what  artists  term  its 
 expression,  because  they  reveal  the  thoughts,  emotions, 
 and  to  some  extent  the  mental  and  moral  character  of 
 the  man.  The  clear  perception  and  practiced  eye  of  the 
 artist  will  not  fail  to  detect  these;  and  by  tracing  similar 
 lines  upon  the  portrait,  he  gives  to  it  the  expression 
 which  belongs  to  the  face  of  his  sitter,  in  doing  this,  so 
 far  from  transferring  to  his  canvass  the  soul  of  his  sub- 
 ject, he  merely  gives  such  indications  of  a  soul  as  appear 
 in  certain  lines  of  the  human  face;  if  he  gives  them  cor- 
 rectly, he  has  done  all  that  Art  can  do. 
 
 THE    UTILITY    OF    ART. 
 
 If  man  were  a  mere  animal  whose  enjoyments  did 
 not  extend  beyond  the  gratification  of  the  appetites  of 
 such  a  being  Art  might  justly  be  regarded  as  a  thing  of 
 very  little  importance. 
 
 In  the  elevated  sense  in  which  we  are  discussing  it, 
 it  addresses  itself  solely  to  that  portion  of  man  which  is 
 the  breath  of  the  Eternal — which  lives  forever, — which 
 is  capable  of  endless  growth  and  progress,  and  the  re- 
 quirements of  which  are  peculiar  to  itself.  The  beauti- 
 ful, and  all  that  is  embraced  in  what  is  termed  esthetics, 
 together  with  all  that  contributes  to  mental  develop- 
 ment is  the  natural  food  of  the  soul,  and  is  as  essential  to 
 its  growth,  expansion  and  happiness,  as  is  the  daily 
 bread  we  consume,  to  the  health  and  life  of  our  animal 
 nature.  The  appetite  for  this  spiritual  food,  like  that  for 
 the  nourishment  essential  to  our  material  growth,  is  a 
 
LKCTURE    OF   I'ROF.   BINGHAM.  328 
 
 part  of  our  nature.  As  the  latter  turns  the  lips  of  the 
 new  born  infant  to  the  breast  of  its  mother,  the  former 
 exhibits  itself  in  its  love  of  the  beautiful.  Before  it  is 
 capable  of  thought  or  reason,  its  eyes  will  sparkle  with 
 intense  delight  at  the  presentation  of  a  beautiful  bouquet, 
 while  it  would  look  upon  a  nugget  of  gold  richer  than 
 the  mines  of  California  ever  produced,  with  utter  indif- 
 ference. As  the  growth,  strength  and  development  of 
 the  body  depend  upon  the  food  demanded  by  its  natural 
 appetites,  so  must  the  growth  and  development  of  the 
 soul,  and  its  capacity  for  enjoyment,  depend  upon  the 
 spiritual  food  demanded  by  those  tastes  peculiar  to  and 
 a  part  of  its  nature. 
 
 The  soul  is  as  necessarily  dwarfed  by  withholding 
 from  it  its  proper  nourishment,  as  is  the  body  from  a 
 like  cause.  The  natural  wants  of  both  should  be  con- 
 stantly supplied,  that  the  child  as  it  grows  in  stature  may 
 also  wax  strong  in  spirit.  If  we  regard  that  as  useless 
 which  meets  the  demands  of  the  esthetic  tastes  of  our 
 nature,  then  we  must  regard  God  as  exhibiting  no 
 wisdom  in  decorating  nature  in  so  lavish  a  manner  with 
 the  grand,  the  sublime,  and  beautiful.  In  giving  us  the 
 fruit  he  might  have  omitted  the  beautiful  bloom  which 
 heralds  its  coming.  In  giving  us  the  rain  which 
 moistens  our  fields  and  makes  our  rivers,  he  might  have 
 withheld  the  accompanying  arch  which  spans  the 
 heavens  and'  exhibits  to  our  delighted  gaze  its  perfect 
 symmetry  in  form  and  unequaled  glory  in  color.  He 
 might  have  spread  over  land  and  sea  and  sky  a  dull  and 
 monotonous  hue,  instead  of  enriching  them  with  that 
 infinitude  of  the  beautiful,  which  they  ceaselessly  unveil 
 to  the  eye  of  man.  All  this  display  of  the  grand  and 
 the  beautiful  seems  to  be  a  divine  recognition  of  the 
 wants  of  our  spiritual  nature  and  a  benevolent  purpose 
 to  supply  them. 
 
924  UNIVERSITY   OV   MISSOURI. 
 
 The  absence  of  Art  in  any  nation  will  ever  be  a 
 mark  of  its  ignorance  and  degradation.  While  the 
 highest  Art  will  be  the  chaplet  which  crowns  the 
 highest  civilization,  its  uses  extend  far  beyond  the.  grat- 
 ification of  our  inherent  love  of  the  beautiful.  As  a 
 language,  its  expressions  are  clearer  than  any  which  can 
 be  embodied  in  alphabetical  forms,  or  that  proceeds  from 
 articulate  sounds.  It  also  has  the  advantage  of  being 
 everywhere  understood  by  all  nations,  whether  savage 
 or  civilized. 
 
 Much  that  is  of  great  importance  in  the  history  of 
 the  world  would  be  lost  if  it  were  not  for  Art.  Great 
 empires  which  have  arisen,  flourished  and  disappeared, 
 are  now  chiefly  known  by  their  imperishable  records  of 
 Art.  It  is  indeed  the  chief  agent  in  securing  national 
 immortality.  In  the  remote  and  prehistoric  periods  of 
 the  past,  there  have  doubtless  been  nations  who  gave  no 
 encouragement  to  Art,  but  like  the  baseless  fabrics  of 
 vision  they  have  disappeared  and  left  not  a  wreck  be- 
 hind. And  this  glorious  Republic  of  ours,  stretching  its 
 liberal  sway  over  a  vast  continent,  will  perhaps  be  best 
 known  in  the  distant  ages  of  the  future  by  the  imperish- 
 able monuments  of  Art  which  we  may  have  the  taste 
 and  the  genius  to  erect. 
 
METAPHYSICS. 
 
 A  Lecture  by  Samuel  S.  Laws,  Professor  of 
 Metaphysics  in  the  University  of  the  State 
 of  Missouri,  May  10,  1879. 
 
 There  is  only  too  much  reason  to  apprehend  that 
 the  bare  mention  of  metaphysics,  as  the  subject  of  this 
 lecture,  suggests  to  some  minds  the  question  whether 
 anything  really  serious  or  intelligible  is  intended.  The 
 prejudice  against  this  subject  is  not  unfrequently  veiled 
 under  the  following  burlesque  definition,  credited  to  the 
 blacksmith  of  Glamis:  "Twa  folk  disputin  thegither; 
 he  that's  listenin  disna  ken  what  he  that's  speakin  means, 
 and  he  that's  speakin  disna  ken  what  he  means  himsel — 
 that's  metaphysics!"  The  irrepressible  wit  of  Sydney 
 Smith  was  indulged  in  ridicule  of  it.  It  is  related  that, 
 when  lecturing  on  one  of  its  topics,  he  exclaimed,  in  his 
 deep,  sonorous  and  warning  voice,  "Ladies  and  gentle- 
 men, there  is  a  word  of  dire  sound  and  horrible  import, 
 which  I  fain  would  have  kept  concealed  if  I  possibly 
 could,  but  as  this  is  not  feasible  I  shall  meet  the  danger 
 at  once  and  get  out  of  it  as  well  as  I  can.  The  word  to 
 which  I  allude  is  that  very  tremendous  one  of  Metaphys- 
 ics, which  in  a  lecture  on  moral  philosophy,  seems  likely 
 to  produce  as  much  alarm  as  the  cry  of  fire  in  a  crowded 
 
826  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 playhouse;  when  Belvidera  is  left  to  cry  by  herself,  and 
 every  one  saves  himself  in  the  best  manner  he  can.  I 
 must  beg  of  my  audience,  however,  to  sit  quiet,  and  in 
 the  mean  time  make  use  of  the  language  which  the 
 manager  would  probably  adopt  on  such  an  occasion :  I 
 am  sure,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  there  is  not  the  smallest 
 degree  of  danger."  This  prejudice  against  metaphysics 
 has  not  been  confined  to  the  rude  and  vulgar,-  either  of 
 the  present  or  of  the  past.  By  placing  the  fool's  cap  on 
 the  head  of  Socrates,  the  ignorant  derision  of  the  Athe- 
 nian populace  culminated  in  his  unrighteous  death  sen- 
 tence by  their  judges.  The  spirit  of  this  scene  still  lives. 
 Once,  metaphysics  was  named  and  esteemed  the  queen 
 of  the  sciences;  but  what  has  been  the  fate  of  this  prin- 
 cess? Our  most  distinguished  modern  scientists  have 
 been  reenacting  the  part  of  Aristophanes,  with  this  dif- 
 ference, that  he  employed  ridicule  against  Socrates, 
 avowedly  in  the  interest  of  conservatism,  whilst  these 
 votaries  of  nature  have  made  a  mistaken  use  of  it  in  the 
 supposed  interest  of  progress.  Were  Shaftbury's  crite- 
 rion valid,  that  ridicule  is  the  test  of  truth,  it  might 
 legitimate  this  style  of  warfare;  but  more  than  once 
 have  other  than  groundlings  with  bloody  hands  joined  in 
 driving  from  the  world's  stage  the  brightest  impersona- 
 tions of  the  true,  the  beautiful  and  the  good.  Scientific, 
 no  less  than  religious  truth,  has  had  its  martyrs;  but 
 through  the  ages,  the  two,  properly  understood,  have 
 never  been  in  conflict  with  each  other,  whilst  both  have 
 been  in  antagonism  with  ignorance,  their  common  and 
 implacable  foe.  Metaphysics  is  their  common  and  faith- 
 ful friend.  With  united  voice  the  lovers  of  truth  might 
 peal  forth  the  words  of  Tennyson,  as  the  anthem  of  the 
 centuries — 
 
 "Ring  out  the  old, 
 
 Ring  in  the  new; 
 Ring  out  the  false, 
 
 Rin^  in  the  true." 
 
LECTURE   OF  PKES.    LAWS.  827 
 
 But  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  the  old  is  not 
 always  the  false,  nor  the  new  always  the  true,  as  was 
 illustrated  in  a  notice  once  given  of  a  book — perhaps 
 one  of  the  popular  contributions  to  modern  science — in 
 which  notice  it  was  remarked,  by  way  of  commenda- 
 tion, that  the  book  in  question  had  in  it  much  that  was 
 new  and  also  much  that  was  true ;  and  by  way  of  criti- 
 cism, that  what  was  true  in  it  was  old  and  what  was  new 
 in  it  was  false.  The  only  rational  rule  of  mental  pro- 
 cedure is  to  "prove  all  things,"  whether  new  or  old,  and 
 "hold  fast  to  that  which  is  good."  By  the  faithful  asser- 
 tion of  this  catholic  principle  of  judgment,  we  loyally 
 venture  to  believe  that  our  queen  is  destined  to  recover 
 the  crown  and  royal  state  of  which  she  has  beeta  de- 
 prived, and  to  hold  again  her  position  in  the  universi- 
 ties of  the  world,  iess  exclusively  and  pretentiously,  no 
 doubt,  and  vet  with  an  empire  subject  to  her  restored 
 sceptre,  embracing  whole  kingdoms  which,  under  the 
 old  regime,  were  not  yet  discovered.  The  science  of 
 the  present  reveals,  daily,  that  it  is  not  self-sufficient,  and 
 that,  just  as  a  building  of  large  and  imposing  dimen- 
 sions requires  beneath  its  super-structure  a  foundation 
 i  -/inks  out  of  the  view  of  the  senses,  so  science  l'ests 
 on  the  transcendental  and  unseen  realities  of  the  world 
 of  metaphysics.     Faith  is  more  profound  than  reason. 
 
 As  a  corrective  of  the  misconceptions  and  ignorance 
 which  generate  the  prejudice  to  which  reference  has  been 
 made,  and  as  a  means  of  enlisting  an  intelligent  interest  in 
 our  subject,  it  will  be  my  aim  to  present  it  in  as  elemen- 
 tary and  complete  a  manner  as  the  limits  of  the  hour  and 
 the  surrounding  circumstances  will  permit.  It  is  due  to 
 the  body  of  students  of  this  University,  that  the  one  in 
 charge  o!  this  disparaged  department,  which  has  been 
 dropped  or  omitted  from  the  curriculum  of  some  of  the 
 
328  UNIVERSITY  OP  MISSOURI. 
 
 leading  institutions  of  our  day,  should  disabuse  their 
 minds  of"  those  false  impressions  which  may  disincline 
 them  to  enter  on  this  line  of  work.  What  may  induce 
 neglect  of  this  study  may  also  perniciously  serve  as  a 
 plausible  apology  for  what  should  properly  be  esteemed 
 a  disgraceful  ignorance.  Moreover,  as  colleagues  in  the 
 faculty  of  this  University,  each  one  by  voicing  his  own 
 department,  not  only  the  more  effectively  serves  the  stu- 
 dents, but  also  his  colleagues.  Surely,  one  oftlv  leading 
 advantages  of  such  a  course  of  lectures  as  tl  is  one  in 
 which  we  have  been  engaged,  is  its  measurable  realiza- 
 tion of  the  helpfulness  of  associated  labor. 
 
 There  are  three  words,  viz.,  metaphysics,  philoso- 
 phy and  ontology  of  which  you  will  please  take  note  as 
 having  identically  the  same  significance.  What  is  to 
 follow  amounts  to  little  more  th.m  an  exposition  of  the 
 one  true  meaning  of  these  three  terms.  I  hasten  to  in- 
 dicate that  meaning. 
 
 The  word  metaphysics  has  a  wide  and  also  a  narrow 
 sense,  and  we  must  guard  ourselves  against  equivocation 
 by  an  explanation.  In  its'  narrow  sense,  it  means  all 
 the  sciences  of  mind,  as  distinguished  from  the  sciences 
 of  matter;  but  in  its  broad  and  generic  sense,  it  presup- 
 poses an  acquaintance  with  these  special  sciences  of  both 
 mind  and  matter  and  designates  the  science  of  being  or 
 an  inquiry  into  the  nature  of  knowledge  itself,  especially 
 with  reference  to  the  substantial  reality  of  mind,  matter 
 and  God.  A  chair  of  metaphysics  takes  account  of 
 both  of  these  aspects  of  the  subject,  but  the  present 
 lecture  is  intended  to  set  forth  the  one  last  named,  that 
 is,  metaphysics  proper  as  distinguished  from  metaphysics 
 in  the  popular  sense  as  designating  a  limited  group  of 
 the  special  sciences.  The  word  philosophy  is  also  ap- 
 plied indifferently  and  equivocally  to  the  special  sciences 
 
LECTURE   OF    PRES.   LAWS.  3^9 
 
 of  matter  and  also  of  mind;  but  ontology  has  a  less  pop- 
 ular use  and  technically  accords  with  metaphysics 
 proper,  which  is  our  present  theme.  It  has  been  al- 
 ready announced  that  it  is  the  intention  on  the  present 
 occasion,  without  further  notice,  to  use  these  three  words 
 in  the  same  sense  and  .that  their  most  profound  and  im- 
 portant one,  as  will  appear  more  fully  from  what 
 follows. 
 
 In  didactic  teaching  a  definition  has  great  virtue,  at 
 the  opening  of  a  discussion ;  it  is  like  a  port  for  which  a 
 voyager  sets  sail ,  as  it  gives  definite  regulation  to  his 
 movements.  But  it  is  only  at  the  end  of  the  inquiry, 
 that  the  pupil  is  supposed  to  be  in  a  situation  to  criticise, 
 modify  or  even  supplant  the  definition,  in  the  light  of  his 
 own  knowledge  of  the  subject.  The  faith  of  the  pupil 
 at  the  outset  is  only  provisional. 
 
 Each  of  the  above  words  has  its  own  interesting 
 etymologjr  and  legend,  but  it  is  not  their  verbal  but  their 
 idealistic  significance  which  is  at  present  our  chief  con- 
 cern. There  have  been  numerous  definitions  given  of 
 the  thing  meant  by  metaphysics  proper,  philosophy  or 
 ontology ;  but  this  may  be  safely  said  of  them  all  that,how- 
 ever  diversely  this  ontology  may  bevicwed,  it  is  uniform- 
 ly recognized  as  a  form  of  knowledge.  This  broad  fact 
 may  be  serviceable,  for  we  are  able  to  distinguish  three 
 entirely  distinct  forms  or  phases  of  knowledge,  and  by 
 so  doing  to  individualize  metaphysics  in  such  a  manner 
 as  to  extricate  it  from  what  might  otherwise  be  an  inex- 
 tricable confusion;  and  such  a  statement  may  have  sub- 
 stantially the  value  of  a  definition,  whether  one  be  form- 
 ulated or  not.  The  first  of  these  three  kinds  of  knowl- 
 edge is  empirical.  This  is  simple  matter  of  fact  knowl- 
 edge and  constitutes  the  experience  of  individuals  and 
 peoples, covering  their  inner  as  well  as  their  outer  life — it 
 
890  UNIVERSITY    OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 is  the  spontaneous  life  of  the  world  arid  constitutes  the 
 raw  materials  of  its  biography,  its  literature  and  its  histo- 
 ry. In  its  second  phase,  knowledge  is  scientific  or  modal. 
 In  this  phase  it  is  the  product  of  reflection  and  generali- 
 zation, for  science  consists  of  the  systematic  classification 
 of  the  laws  of  phenomena.  No  amount  of  knowledge, 
 whether  confused  or  classified,  abstract  or  concrete,  con- 
 stitutes science  till  laws  are  grasped  and  coordinated.  But 
 laws  are  the  mere  modes  of  the  coexistence,  continuance 
 and  succession  of  phenomena  in  time  and  space.  The 
 final  and  third  division  of  knowledge  into  philosophic 
 as  distinguished  from  the  empirical  and  scientific,  is  the 
 one  which  invites  our  attention  on  this  occasion.  Empiri- 
 cal knowledge,  in  its  childlike  spontaneity  and  simplicity, 
 takes  no  rational  account  of  laws  and  causes,  whereas, 
 philosophy  views  things  in  relation  to  their  causes  and 
 first  principles,  whilst  science  views  phenomena  in  their 
 uniform  relations  to  each  other  in  their  successions  and 
 coordinations  of  time  and  space.  The  explanation  of  a 
 phenomenon  of  experience  from  observation  or  experi- 
 ment, may  be  either  scientific  or  philosophic, — it  is 
 scientific,  when  the  phenomenon  is  referred  to  its  law;  it 
 is  philosophic,  when  referred  to  its  cause  or  sufficient 
 reason.  Science  does  not  consist  in  a  search  for  causes  but 
 in  a  search  for  laws,  as  being  the  formulation  of  the  effects 
 resulting  from  the  uniform  action  of  causes.  The  laws 
 of  nature  properly  considered  have  no  causal  force;  they 
 are  correctly  viewed  as  only  "the  paths  along  which  the 
 forces  of  nature  move."  The  philosophy  of  nature  is 
 its  aetiology:  the  science  of  nature  is  its  modality. 
 
 It  is  not  meant  that  experience  is  ignorant  of  caus- 
 ality and  its  uniformities,  but  only  that  this  spontaneous 
 form  of  knowledge  is  in  the  concrete  and  that  our  spon- 
 taneous intuitions  are  quite  free   from   abstract,  reflection 
 
LECTUKE    OF    PREP.    IjAWS.  381 
 
 and  construction.  Nor  is  it  meant  that  the  scientist  does 
 properly  or  can  possibly  ignore  causes,  but  only  that,  to 
 the  extent  that  he  has  or  holds  them  in  contemplation,  it 
 is  not  as  a  scientist  but  as  a  philosopher  that  he  does  so. 
 The  scientist  is  more  than  his  science, — is  not  a  mere 
 scientist.  Nor  is  it  meant  that  the  philosopher  ignores 
 experience  and  science,  but  that  as  a  philosopher  he  lifts 
 their  contents  to  a  higher  plane.  In  each  case,  the  man 
 of  experience,  the  man  of  science  and  the  man  of  phi- 
 losophy is  somewhat  more  than  himself,  for  the  same 
 soul,  in  its  various  stages  of  unfolding,  is  the  one 
 treasure  house  of  all  this  threefold  wealth  ot  knowledge. 
 Individuals,  like  nations  and  ages,  pass  from  spontaneity 
 to  reflection  and  then,  by  criticism,  discover  a  chaos  or  a 
 continent.  Ours  is  a  critical  age  and  the  angel  of  truth 
 is  already  calling  to  the  watchmen,  what  of  the  night? 
 an  I  in  the  dawning  of  the  morning  of  a  day  brighter 
 than  any  on  record,  she  is  treading  the  firm  earth  with  a 
 surer  step  than  ever  before.  With  confidence  may  we 
 say,  in  the  bold  language  of  Milton,  "Let  her  and  false- 
 hood grapple;  who  ever  knew  truth  put  to  the  worse, 
 in  a  free  and  open  encounter." 
 
 Empirical  knowledge  answers  the  question — what? 
 scientific  knowledge  answers  the  question — how?  and 
 philosophic,  metaphysical  or  ontological  knowledge 
 answers  the  question — why?  The  what,  the  how  and 
 the  why  are  not  in  isolation  but  are  interdependent;  and 
 the  true  unity  of  knowledge  is  realized  in  their  recijDro- 
 cal  communion;  the  first  phase  is  phenomenal;  the 
 second  modal  and  the  third  noumenal : 
 
 These  distinctions,  especially  in  their  scientific  and 
 philosophic  phases,  seem  to  have  struggled  in  the  mind 
 of  Aristotle  for  articulate  recognition  and  utterance,  as 
 is  seen  in  such"  passages  as  the  following  from  his  Meta- 
 physics: 
 
882  UNIVERSITY    OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 "But  in  every  respect  is  the  science  of  ontology  strictly  a 
 science  of  that  which  is  first  or  elemental,  both  on  which  the 
 other  things  depend  and  through  which  they  are  denominated. 
 If  then,  this  is  substance,  the  philosopher  or  metaphysician  must 
 needs  be  in  possession  of  the  first  principles  and  causes  of  sub- 
 stances. *  *  *  But  this  is  the  same  with  none  of  those  which  are 
 called  particular  sciences;  for  none  of  the  rest  of  the  sciences  ex- 
 amines universally  concerning  entity." 
 
 The  importance  of  these  distinctions  appears  also  in 
 such  passages  as  the  following,  from  the  Hegelian 
 Schwegler's  History  of  Philosophy: 
 
 "In  what,  then,  is  philosophy  distinguished  from  these 
 sciences,  e.  g.  from  the  science  of  astronomy,  of  medicine,  or  of 
 right?  Certainly  not  in  that  it  has  a  different  material  to  work, 
 upon.  Its  materia]  is  precisely  the  same  as  that  of  the  different 
 empirical  sciences.  The  construction  and  disposition  of  the  uni- 
 verse, the  arrangement  and  functions  of  the  human  body,  the 
 doctrines  of  property,  of  rights  and  of  the  state— all  these  mate- 
 rials belong  as  truly  to  philosophy  as  to  their  appropriate  sciences. 
 That  which  is  given  in  the  world  of  experience,  that  which  is  real, 
 is  the  content  likewise  of  philosophy.  It  is  not,  therefore,  in  its 
 material  but  in  its  form,  in  its  method,  in  its  mode  of  knowledge, 
 that  philosophy  is  to  be  distinguished  from  the  empirical  sciences. 
 These  latter  derive  their  material  directly  trom  experience;  they 
 find  it  at  hand  and  take  it  up  just  as  they  find  it.  Philosophy,  on 
 the  other  hand,  is  never  satisfied  with  recieving  that  which  is 
 given  simply  as  it  is  given  but  rather  follows  it  out  to  its  ultimate 
 grounds;  it  examines  every  individual  thing  with  reference  to  a 
 final  principle  and  considers  it  as  one  link  in  the  whole  chain  of 
 knowledge.  In  this  way  philosophy  removes  from  the  individual 
 thing  given  in  experience,  its  immediate,  individual,  and  accidental 
 character;  from  the  sea  of  empirical  individualities,  it  brings  out 
 that  which  is  common  to  all.  In  short,  philosophy  examines  the 
 totality  of  experience  in  the  form  of  an  organic  system  in  harmony 
 with  the  laws  of  thought." — (pp.  11-12.) 
 
 There  is  in  this  passage  a  certain  interbl ending  of 
 the  scientific  and  philosophical,  which  the  above  three- 
 fold distinction  enables  one  easily  to  discern  and  rectify. 
 
 This  wisdom,  as  it  was  termed  by  the  earliest  specu- 
 lators of  Greece;  this  philosophy  or  love  of  wisdom,  as 
 a  later  age  more  modestly  termed  it;  this  metaphysics,  as 
 it  was  named  from  the  chance  designation  of  the  earliest 
 formal  treatise,  that  of  Aristotle,  on  the  subject;  or  this 
 ontology,    as   defined   by  etymological  refinement — call 
 
LECTURE   Of    PRES.    LAWS.  333 
 
 this  third  and  final  form  or  phase  of  knowledge  by  what 
 name  we  may,  in  all  cases  it  seeks   Tor  the  foundations  of 
 the  edifice  of  human   knowledge;  the  ultimate   and  en- 
 during realities — the  noumena — attainable  by  our  intel- 
 ligence, on   which   depends   the    certitude  of  what    we 
 know.     Metaphysics  transcends  every  particular  science, 
 whether  of  mind   or   matter,  and  every   experience,  and 
 grasps  what  lies   beyond  and  what,  through  the  criticism 
 of  science  and  experience   we  learn,  makes  science  and 
 experience    themselves    possible.      The    real    problem 
 which    metaphysics    undertakes    to    solve,    is    this,  the 
 nature  and  ultimate  conditions  of  our  knowledge,in  its  last 
 analysis.     Is  it  real?  is  it  illusory?  is  it  phenomenal  only? 
 is  it  relative  or  absolute?  has  it  objective  as  well  as  sub- 
 jective validity?     What  is  the  ultimate,  the  final  and  the 
 satisfying  ground  on  which  the  superstructure  of  science 
 and   the    accumulations  of  human   experience,   in    their 
 most  comprehensive  sense,  repose?    We  seek  an  answer. 
 Our  accepted  answer  must  be  to  us  our  philosophy;  and 
 hence,  right  or  wrong,  our  philosophy  is  our  theory  of 
 the  universe.     To  us  a  universe  unknown    would  be  as 
 zero;  and  it  is  real  to  us  only  as   known.     Theorize  we 
 must;  facts  without  theory  are  dead  rubbish;  our  nature 
 demands  science  and  philosophy,  and  in  each,  theory   is 
 more  than  hypothesis — a  theory   is  :i  vindicated  hvpoth- 
 esis. 
 
 It  is  now  proposed  to  take  a  brief  survey  of  the 
 leading  hypotheses  of  the  ages,  set  forth  in  the  attempt 
 to  solve  the  problem  of  knowledge:  notice  will  first  be 
 taken  of  those  various  views  which,  in  varying  measure, 
 are  esteemed  partial,  inadequate  and  false.  The  one 
 view  which  I  conceive  to  be  true  and  valid  and  alone 
 entitled  to  recognition  and  consideration  as  a  theory, 
 will  be  reserved  to  the  last.     The  truth   is    imperishable, 
 
334  UN'VBRSITY    OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 it  is  one  and  catholic  and  ever,  like  the  sun,  bears  on  its 
 front  a  luminous  glow.  The  soul  hungers  for  it  as 
 the  bread  of  its  life,  and  nothing  else  can  satisfy  it.  It 
 is  hoped  that  the  conciseness  of  this  survey  enforced  by 
 the  circumstances  '.nay  occasion  clearness  rather  than 
 obscurity. 
 
 All  the  philosophies  which  have  gone  to  record 
 may  be  reduced  to  two,  which  are  fundamentally  dis- 
 tinct and  antagonistic,  viz.,  nihilism  and  realism,  or 
 as  I  shall  take  the  liberty  of  calling  them,  phenomenal- 
 ism and  noumenalism.  These  two  opposing  views  pre- 
 sent the  negative  and  positive  poles  of  speculation;  one 
 is  destructive  and  the  other  constructive. 
 
 I  have  a  sweet  or  bitter  taste,  the  smell  of  a  pleasant 
 or  offensive  odor,  the  sight  of  a  beautiful  or  disgusting 
 image,  experience  a  feeling  of  joy  or  sorrow:  the  phe- 
 nomenalist  admits  the  appearances  as  phenomena  of 
 consciousness,  but  will  not  allow  to  these  appearances 
 any  substantive  reality,  nor  accept  of  either  mind  or  mat- 
 ter as  revealed  or  evidenced  in  any  act  of  knowledge 
 whatever.  The  phenomena  are  only  as  shadows  with- 
 out substance,  and  as  dreams  without  a  dreamer.  The 
 one  point  in  common  to  all  noumenalists  is  that  the  uni- 
 verse of  being  is  something  other  than  an  illusion,  a 
 cheating  mirage,  a  phantasm  or  dream,  and  that  in  the 
 act  of  knowledge  we  grasp  phenomena  plus  substantial 
 reality,  that  at  least  a  substantial  self  exists  and  endures 
 amid  all  the  mutations  ol  the  universe.  But  what  fol- 
 lows will  serve  to  render  this  general  and  abstract  enun- 
 ciation easily  understood. 
 i.     Nihilism. 
 
 It  is  because  the  spirit  of  destruction  without  posi- 
 tive aim  has  animated  the  discontented  elements  of 
 European  society,  especially  of  late  in  Russia,  that  these 
 
I-KG'TURK    OF     1'RES.    liAWS.  335 
 
 communistic  agitators  have  been  called  nihilists.  Their 
 spirit  is  precisely  the  same  as  that  of  the  nihilistic  phi- 
 losophy; they  seek  the  destruction  of  what  is  not  satis- 
 fying-, without  offering  to  substitute  something  better  in 
 its  place.  In  dealing  with  perishable  objects  such  as  the 
 products  of  nature  and  art,  the  work  of  destruction  has 
 a  fearful  and  irreparable  advantage.  A  child  with  a 
 hatchet  may  in  a  few  hours  destroy  the  great  oak  whose 
 growth  is  the  work  of  centuries.  But  in  dealing  with 
 principles  and  things  of  a  rational  nature,  the  conditions 
 of  vitality  are  not  so  precarious.  Truth  itself  is  inde- 
 structible; and  this  is  the  stuff  out  of  which  knowledge, 
 the  fact  which  we  seek  to  explain,  is  made,  for  all  real 
 and  enduring  knowledge,  all  that  deserves  the  name  of 
 knowledge,  consists  of  apprehended  truth.  Hence  the 
 repeated  recoils  and  recoveries  of  thought  from  the 
 misleadings  of  error,  and  the  tireless  renewal  of  efforts, 
 after  repeated  failures,  to  gain  the  truth  in  its  simplicity, 
 in  its  fadeless  beauty  and  soul-satisfying  power,  notwith- 
 standing it  is  so  often  and  so  sadly  misunderstood,  mis- 
 represented and  dishonored  by  errorists.  Nihilism  muti- 
 lates the  truth  of  the  fact  of  knowledge  in  that  it  allows 
 no  reality,  true  or  false,  material  or  spiritual,  to  aught 
 beneath  or  beyond  apppearances;  and  even  phenomena 
 are  speculative!}'  esteemed  and  treated  as  illusory.  This 
 view  is  confessedly  not  accordant  with  man's  spontane- 
 ous activity.  It  is,  then,  the  unnatural  progeny  of  a  dis- 
 torted, partial  and  mistaken  interpretation  of  man's  na- 
 ture; but  as  man  is  an  integral  part  of  the  universe,  so 
 far  forth  as  that  universe  in  its  totality  stands  within  the 
 vision  of  knowledge,  no  hypothesis  is  capable  of  vindi- 
 cation which  fails  to  provide,  without  omission  or  distor- 
 tion, a  complete  exposition  of  all  the  facts  of  man's  na- 
 ture. 
 
336  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOL'JU. 
 
 In  the  domain  of  speculation  there  .ire  three  names 
 pre-eminently  associated  with  nihilism,  viz.,  Pyrrho, 
 Hume  and  Fichte.  Even  Berkeley  and  Kant  were 
 realists.  Protagoras,  the  sophist,  is  sometimes  individual- 
 ized as  the  representative  of  the  dogmatic  and  Pyrrho 
 as  representing  the  sceptical  or  nescient  phase  of 
 nihilism.  Dogmatic  nihilism  denied  the  existence  of 
 aught  beyond  appearances  and  sceptical  nihilism  denied 
 the  knowableness  of  aught  beyond,  i.  e.  were  it  true 
 that  something  other  than  mere  sensible  appearances 
 exists,  still  we  cannot  know  it:  or  as  another  has  ex- 
 pressed it — "The  difference,  therefore,  between  Prota- 
 goras, the  sophist,  and  Pyrrho,  the  sceptic,  was  this — 
 thai  while  the  former  maintained  the  universe  to  be  a 
 mere  appearance  destitute  of  any  answering  reality  \ 
 the  latter  simply  held  that  it  was  an  appearance  of  which 
 the  reality  was  unknown^  But  as  both  of  these 
 phases  of  nihilism  virtually  emerge  from  the  fragments 
 and  reports  of  Pyrrho  transmitted  to  us,  his  name 
 properly  stands  first  on  the  roll  of  the  representatives  of 
 this  daring  speculation.  Diogenes  Laertius,  in  his  "Lives 
 of  Eminent  Philosophers,"  gives  a  third  more  space  to 
 Pyrrho  than  to  either  Socrates  or  Aristotle.  Let  us 
 attend  to  some  extracts,  chiefly  from  this  ancient  sketch. 
 Diogenes  says : 
 
 "The  Pyrrhonean  system,  then,  is  a  simple  explanation  of  ap- 
 pearances, or  of  notions  of  every  kind  by  means  of  which,  com- 
 paring one  thing  with  another,  one  arrives  at  the  conclusion,  that 
 there  is  nothing  in  all  these  notions  but  contradiction  and  confu- 
 sion." Again:  ''The  difficulties  which  they,  (the  Pyrrhoneana,} 
 suggest,  relating  to  the  agreement  of  what  appears  to  the  senses, 
 and  what  is  comprehended  by  the  intellect,  divide  themselves  into 
 ten  modes  of  argument,  according  to  which  the  subject  and  object 
 of  our  knowledge  are  incessantly  changing."  After  canvassing 
 these  and  other  modes,  he  continues:  "As  to  the  contradictions 
 which  arc  founded  in  those  speculations,  when  they  are  pointed 
 out  in  what  way  each  fact  is  convincing,  they  (the  Pyrrhonists) 
 then,  by  the  same  means,   take  away  all  belief  in    it.     *  *     And 
 
L.KCTURK    OK    PRES.    LAWS.  387 
 
 they  prove  that  the  reasons  opposite  to  thote  on  which  our  assent 
 is  founded  are  entitled  to  equal -belief."  *  *  *  He  continues: 
 "These  skeptics,  then,  deny  the  existence  of  any  test  of  any  dem- 
 onstration, of  any  test  of  truth,  of  any  signs,  or  causes,  or  mofion 
 or  learning,  and  of  anything  as  naturally  or  intrinsically  good  or 
 had.  For  he  (Pyrrho)  used  to  say  that  nothing  was  honorable,  or 
 disgraceful,  or  just,  or  unjust/' 
 
 And  on  the  same  principle  he  asserted    that  there 
 
 was    no  such  thing  as  downright  truth;  but    that  men 
 
 did  every  thing  in  consequence  of  custom  and  law.  "For 
 
 that    nothing    was    any    more  this  than  that."     Again: 
 
 But  Democritus  says  that  there  is  no  test  whatever 
 of  appearances,  and  also  that  they  are  not  criteria  of 
 truth.  Moreover,  the  dogmatic  philosophers  attack  the  cri- 
 terion derived  from  appearances,  and  say  that  the  same 
 objects  at  different  times  present  different  appearances,  con- 
 sequently, if  the  sceptic  (Pyrrhonist)  does  not  discriminate 
 between  different  appearances,  he  does  nothing  at  all.  If,  on 
 the  contrary,  he  determines  in  favor  of  either,  then,  say  they,  he 
 »o  longer  attaches  equal  value  to  all  appearances.  The  sceptics 
 (i.  e.  Pyrrhonists)  reply  to  this,  that  in  the  presence  of  different 
 appearances,  they  content  themselves  w'th  saying  that  there  arc 
 many  appearances,  and  that  it  is  precisely  because  things  present 
 themselves  under  different  characters,  that  they  affirm  the  exis- 
 tence of  appearances.  Perhaps  our  opponent  (the  dogmatist) 
 will  say,  Are  these  appearances  trustworthy  or  deceitful?  We 
 (sceptics)  answer  that,  if  they  are  trustworthy,  the  other  side  has 
 nothing  to  object  to  those  to  whom  the  contrary  appearance  pre- 
 sents itself.  For,  as  he  who  says  that  such  and  such  a  thing  ap- 
 pears to  him,  is  trustworthy;  so  also  is  he  who  says  that  the  con- 
 trary appears  to  him.  And  if  appearances  are  deceitful,  then  they 
 do  not  deseuve  any  confidence  when  they  assert  what  appears  to 
 them  to  be  true.  *  *  From  all  of  which  it  follows,  that  the  first 
 principles  of  all  things  have  no  reality. 
 
 Pyrrho  (384-2S8  or  360-270  B.  C.,)  is  reported  to 
 have  lived  to  the  age  of  ninety  or  more.  It  will  be  ob- 
 served from  the  dates  given  that  he  was  a  contemporary 
 of  Plato  (430-348  B.  C.,)  and  also  of  Aristotle  (384-322 
 B.  C.)  whom  he  survived,  at  the  least,  for  more  than 
 thirty  years.  Like  the  great  church  historian  Neander, 
 he  is  said  to  have  "lived  in  a  most  blameless  manner 
 with  his  sister."  Having  followed  in  his  youth  the 
 business  of  a  huxter,  he-then   became  a  painter  and  a 
 
338  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI.' 
 
 student  of  Democritus  in  the  school  of  Anaxarchus, 
 whom  he  accompanied  in  the  train  of  Alexander  the 
 Great,  as  far  as  India.  He  was  a  native  of  Elis,  and,  on 
 his  return  to  that  place,  he  is  said  to  have  been  made  a 
 priest  of  the  temple  by  the  good  will  of  his  fellow 
 citizens.  Pyrrho  himself,  like  Socrates,  wrote  noth- 
 ing, but  Diogenes  says  'his  friends  Timon,  and  others 
 of  that  class  have  left  books.  All  these  men  were 
 called  Pyrrhoneans  from  their  master:  and  perse- 
 vered in  overthrowing  all  the  dogmas  of  every  sect, 
 while  they  themselves  asserted  nothing.'  Whilst 
 Sextus  Empiricus,  the  physician,  who  flourished 
 about  200  of  the  Christian  Era,  is  the  great  storehouse 
 of  information  and  arguments  on  ancient  scepticism 
 which  has  been  revamped  in  modern  times,  Pyrrho 
 chiefly  lives  in  what  is  preserved  from  his  most  eminent 
 pupil  Timon,  a  physician  of  Phlius,  who  wrote  three 
 books  of  satirical  poems  in  which  all  the  Greek  philoso- 
 phers are  reviled  as  babblers  except  Xenophanes,  the 
 Hegel  of  Greece,  who,  in  his  esteem,  sought  the  truth  and 
 Pyrrho  who  found  it.  Said  Timon  in  the  spirit  of  his 
 master, — "That  a  thing  is  sweet  I  do  not  affirm,  but  only 
 admit  that  it  appears  so."  "Again,  we  feel  that  fire 
 burns,  but  we  suspend  our  judgment  as  to  whether  it 
 has  a  burning  nature."  In  a  word,  as  it  is  pithely 
 summed  up  by  Ueberweg — "There  exist  no  fixed  dif- 
 ferences among  things."     Such  is  Pyrrhonism. 
 
 The  supreme  psychological  characteristic  of  this 
 ancient  nihilistic  speculation  is  the  assumed  suspension 
 or  indifferency  of  judgment  under  the  full  blaze  of  evi- 
 dence, however  pertinent  and  cogent,  whereas,  by  an 
 inexorable  law  of  the  mind,  adequate  evidence  appre- 
 hended, necessarily  decides  the  judgment.  There  is 
 no  one   respect  in  which  the  passivity  of  the  intellect  is 
 
LECTURE  OF   PRES.    LAWS.  339 
 
 more  strikingly  revealed  than  in  its  .submission  to 
 evidence.  "These  sceptics,"  says  Diogenes,  "deny  the 
 existence  of  any  demonstration;  of  any  test  of  truth." 
 The  blinding  and  perverting  force  of  selfish  passion 
 and  prejudice  where  moral  issues  are  involved,  being 
 here  out  of  view,  the  submission  of  the  intellect  to  evi- 
 dence is  as  stated.  The  human  mind  that  would  not  be 
 compelled  to  acquiesce  in  the  demonstration  that  the 
 three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  angles 
 or  in  the  axiom  that  the  whole  is  equal  to  all  its  parts, 
 would  be  pronounced  imbecile  or  idiotic;  and  a  like 
 failure  to  discern  the  equally  valid  moral  distinctions  as 
 to  things  right  and  wrong,  true  and  false,  good  and  bad, 
 would,  under  the  kindly  influences  of  our  christian  civi- 
 lization, be  cared  for  and  treated  as  that  of  a  lunatic. 
 
 Three  centuries  of  Greek  speculation  preceded 
 Pyrrho,  extending  from  Thales  downward  and  embrac- 
 ing the  Academic,  the  Peripatetic,  (308  13.  C.)  the  Stoic 
 and  (306  B.  C.)  the  Epicurean  Schools,  with  all  of  whose 
 founders  he  was  a  contemporary;  and  as  he  studied 
 these  pre-Socratic  and  post-Socratic  systems,  his  mind 
 sank  into  doubt  and  negation — not  the  Socratic  doubt 
 of  the  Academics,  which  balanced  between  the  choice 
 of  positive  probabilities;  much  less  the  doubt  of  the 
 Cartesians,  which  has  become  the  positive  guarantee 
 of  certainty  in  our  modern  philosophy;  but  the  doubt 
 of  unreality,  for  to  him  "the  first  principles  of  all  things 
 have  no  reality,"  which  doubt  leaves  the  mind  a  blank, 
 or  rather,  a  camera  of  unsubstantial  images.  His 
 critical  judgment  could  easily  detect  untenable  ele- 
 ments in  the  schemes  of  his  predecessors  and  contempo- 
 raries,ahd  three  alternatives  were  plainly  open  to  him,(i) 
 either  the  indiscriminate  rejection  of  all,  (2)  an  eleciic 
 reconstruction  by  choosing  the  good  and    rejecting  the 
 
840  UMVKK61TY    OK   M1S60UK1. 
 
 bad,  or,  (3)  the  positive  substitution  of  a  new  and  supposed 
 better  creation  of  thought.  But  Pyrrho's  whole  being 
 moved  away  from  the  positive  to  the  negative  pole,  he  re- 
 jected all;  and  the  issue  in  his  mind  was,' as  we  have  seen, 
 the  dreary  subversion  of  all  speculative  knowledge,  the 
 denial  of  the  existence  and  knowableness  of  all  reality 
 and  of  truth  itself,  for  which  he  admitted  no  criterion 
 and  no  distinctive  character.  It  was  speculatively  the 
 black,  bottomless,  hopeless  and  dreamy  doubt  of  nihilism. 
 
 But  human  nature  is  often  more  sensible  than  human 
 reason ;  its  spontaneous  activities  often  brush  away  like 
 cobwebs  men's  fine  spun  speculations.  Naturally 
 enough  Pyrrho  practiced  a  better  philosophy  than  he 
 taught. 
 
 Aenesidemus,  probably  of  the  first  century,  A. 
 D.,  says  that  'Pyrrho  studied  philosophy  on  the 
 principle  of  suspending  his  judgment  on  all  points, 
 without,  however,  on  any  occasion  acting  in  an  im- 
 prudent manner,  or  doing  anything  without  due 
 consideration,  i.  e.,  suspending  judgment  in  all  mat- 
 ters which  do  not  refer  to  living  and  the  pres- 
 ervation of  life.  Accordingly,  say  they,  we  avoid 
 gome  things  and  we  seek  others,  following  custom  in 
 that;  and  we  obey  the  laws.'  Hence  it  is  related  that 
 when,  on  a  certain  occasion,  Pyrrho  was  driven  back  by 
 a  dog  which  was  attacking  him,  he  said  to  some  one 
 who  blamed  him  for  being  discomposed,  "that  it  was  a 
 difficult  thing  entirely  to  put  eff  humanity ;  but  that  a  man 
 ought  to  strive  with  all  his  power  to  counteract  circum- 
 stances with  his  actions  if  possible,  and  at  all  events  with 
 his  reason."  Horace  says  that  one  cannot  drive  out  nature 
 with  a  pitch -fork,  and  the  law  of  self-preservation  is 
 by  Pyrrho  conceded  to  be  stronger  than  theory  and  to 
 bring  the  "action*"  of  the  sceptic  into  discord  with  his 
 "reason." 
 
LBCTUBE   OF   PREP,    I,AWS.  Ml 
 
 Hence,  uhe  is  represented  on  the  one  hand  as  a 
 marvel  of  folly,  on  the  other  as  a  miracle  of  wisdom." 
 For  example:  Diogenes  says  that  "he  never  shunned 
 anything  and  never  guarded  against  anything,  encount- 
 ering every  thing,  even  waggons  for  instance,  and  preci- 
 pices, and  dogs,  and  everything  of  that  sort;  committing 
 nothing  whatever  to  his  senses.  So  that  he  used  to  be 
 saved  by  his  friends  who  accompanied  him."  But,  on 
 the  other  hand,  Timon  in  one  verse  represents  him  as— 
 
 "The  only  man  as  happy  as  a  god," 
 Such  contradictoriness  of  representation  implies  some- 
 thing more  than  an  imperfection  of  the  record;  it  seems 
 to  have  arisen  from  the  practical  and  confessed  impossi- 
 bility ot  acting  in  harmony  with  his  theory. 
 
 It  is  not  surprising  that  Pyrrho  is  differently  esti- 
 mated by  different  philosophers,  for  the  portraiture  of 
 every  one  is  necessarily  somewhat  personal,  owing  to 
 his  remains  being  second-hand,  fragmentary  and  incon- 
 sistent, so  that  each  one  is  left  in  good  part  to  make  his 
 sketch  from  the  colors  on  his  own  pallet.  The  fact  is, 
 the  name  of  Pyrrho  is  highly  typical,  but  the  salient 
 points  of  the  above  extracts  and  estimates  sufficiently  in- 
 dividualize his  representative  character  as  the  father  of 
 scepticism.  The  paternity  of  many  subsequent  specula- 
 tions is  traceable  to  him.  In  the  17th  century,  the 
 authors  of  the  Port  Roval  Logic  placed  the  following 
 estimate  on  this  system  : 
 
 There  are  no  absurdities  too  groundless  to  find  supporters. 
 Whoever  determines  to  deceive  the  world,  may  be  sure  of  finding 
 people  who  are  willing  enough  to  be  deceived,  and  the  most  absurd 
 follies  always  find  minds  .to  which  they  are  adapted.  After  seeing 
 what  a  number  are  infatuated  with  the  follies  of  judicial  astrology, 
 and. that  even  grave  persons  treat  this  subject  seriously,  we  need 
 not  be  surprised  at  anything  more.  *  *  *  We  find  others,  on 
 the  contrary,  who.  having  light  enough  to  know  that  there  are  a 
 number  of  tilings  obscure  and  uncertain,  and  wishing,  from 
 another  kind  of  vanity,  to  show  that  they  are  not  led  away  by  the 
 
842  UNIVERSITY  of  Missouitr. 
 
 popular  credulity  take  it  pride  in  maintaining  that  there  is  nothing 
 certain.  They  thus  free  themselves  from  the  labor  of  examina- 
 tion, and  on  this  evil  principle  they  bring  into  doubt  the  most 
 firmly  established  truths,  and  even  religion  itself.  This  is  the 
 source  of  Pyrrhonism  (or  scepticism)  another  extravagance  of  the 
 human  mind.  *  *  *  True  reason  places  all  things  in  the  rank 
 which  belongs  to  them;  it  questions  those  which  are  doubtful, 
 rejects  those  which  are  false,  and  acknowledges  in  good  faith, 
 those  which  are  evident,  without  being  embarrassed  by  the  vain 
 reasons  of  the  Pyrrhonists,  which  never  could,  even  in  the  minds 
 of  those  who  proposed  them,  destroy  the  reasonable  assurance  we 
 have  of  many  things.  None  ever  seriously  doubted  the  existence 
 of  the  sun,  the  earth,  the'  moon,  or  that  the  whole  was  greater 
 than  the  parts.  We  may  indeed  easily  say  outwardly  with  the 
 lips  that  we  doubt  of  all  these  things,  because  it  is  possible  for  us 
 to  lie;  but  we  cannot  say  this  in  our  hearts.  Thus  Pyrrhonism  is 
 not  a  sect  composed  of  men  persuaded  of  what  they  say,  but  a 
 sect  of  liars.  Hence  they  often  contradict  themselves  in  uttering" 
 their  opinion,  since  it  is  impossible  for  their  hearts  to  agree  with 
 their  language.  We  see  this  in  Montaigne,  who  attempted  to 
 revive  this  sect  in  the  last  (16th)  century.  *  *  *  Thus  these  dis- 
 orders of  the  mind — the  one  leading  to  an  inconsiderate  belief  of 
 what  is  obscure  and  uncertain,  the  other  to  the  doubting  of  what 
 is  clear  and  certain — have  nevertheless  a  common  origin,  wrhich  is 
 the  neglect  of  attention  which  is  necessary  in  order  to  discover 
 the  truth. — pp.  2-6. 
 
 On  the  contrary,  Prof.  Baynes  in  his  note  on  this- 
 passage  of  the  Port  Royal  Logic,  holds  that  Pyrrho 
 has  done  good  service  to  philosophy,  and  that  his 
 "teaching  consisted  in  showing  that,  since  knowledge- 
 supposes  relations,  absolute  knowledge  is  a  contradic- 
 tion." But  it  must  have  been  a  questionable  service,  for 
 in  his  formal  dialectics,  Pyrrho  seems  to  have  set  at  de- 
 fiance the  law  <>f  identity,  by  repudiating  all  fixedness  of 
 predication;  and  also  the  law  of  contradiction,  by  holding 
 that  contradictions  are  entitled  to  equal  belief  and  that 
 "demonstration"  is  a  fiction,  so  that  "nothing  is  any 
 more  this  than  that;"  and  as  to  the  matter  or  content  of 
 his  logical  forms,  he  held  that  the  "first  principles  ot  all 
 things  have  no  reality;"  and  in  addition  to  confounding 
 all  rational  distinctions,  he  equally  reduced  all  moral  dis- 
 tinctions to  a  chaos  by  denying  that  anything   is  "honor- 
 
LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  343 
 
 able  or  disgraceful,  just  or  unjust,  good  or  bad."  Cer- 
 tainly language  must  have  lost  all  reliable  significance, 
 or  such  radical  and  sweeping  negations  are  tantamount 
 to  the  overthrow  and  annihilation  not  alone  of  "absolute 
 knowledge"  but  of  all  knowledge-.  In  its  speculative 
 attitude  as  well  as  in  its  suicidal  practical  recoil,  by  an 
 appeal  to  the  irrepressible  spontaneity  of  human  nature 
 in  its  common  sense  utterances  and  activities,  Pyrrho- 
 nism is  a  surprisingly  complete  anticipation  of  Hume. 
 In  fact,  this  Scotch  sceptic  and  historian,  who,  as  a  phi- 
 losopher, may  be  fairly  viewed  as  Pyrrho's  alter  egoY 
 seems  to  have  borrowed  the  pallet  of  the  Greek  painter; 
 and  our  Scotch  professor  certainly  gives  us  a  curious 
 surprise  in  making  Pyrrho  the  prototype  of  Hamilton 
 instead  of  Hume. 
 
 Let  us  now  make  an  immediate  and  silent  descent 
 across  an  interval  of  two  thousand  years*  extending  from 
 the  Greek  Pyrrho,  reputed  "the  true  founder  of  scepti- 
 cism," to  the  Scotch  Hume  (1711- 1776),  reputed  "the 
 prince  of  sceptics."  The  few  extracts  which  will  now  be 
 adduced,  to  reveal  and  epitomise  his  views,  arc  of  un- 
 doubted authenticity  and  genuineness,  being  in  these  re- 
 spects unlike  the  conjectural  extracts  respecting  Pyrrho: 
 
 It  seems  evident,  that  men  are  carried  bv  a  natural  instinct  or 
 prepossession  10  repose  faith  in  their  senses;  and  that,  without  any 
 reasoning,  or  even  almost  before  the  use  of  reason,  we  always  sup- 
 pose an  external  universe,  which  depends  not  on  our  perception, 
 but  would  exist,  though  we  and  every  sensible  creature  were  ab- 
 sent  or  annihilated.  Even  the  animal  creation  are  governed  by  a 
 like  opinion,  and  preserve  this  belief  of  external  objects,  in  all  their 
 thoughts,  designs  and  actions. 
 
 It  seems  also  evident,  that  when  men  follow  t  his  blind  and 
 powerful  instinct  of  nature,  they  always  suppose  the  very  images 
 presented  by  the  senses,  to  be  the  external  objects,  and  never  en- 
 tertain any  suspicion  that  the  one  are  nothing  hut  representations 
 of  the  other.  This  very  table  which  we  see  white,  and  which  we 
 feel  hard,  i=  believed  to  exist,  independent  01'  our  perception,  and 
 to  be  something  external  to  our  mind  which  perceives  it.  Our 
 presence  bestows  not  being  on  it:  our  absence  does  not  annihilate 
 
344  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 ti.  It  preserves  its  existence  uniform  and  entire,  independent  of 
 the  situation  of  intelligent  beings,  who  perceive  or  contemplate  it. 
 But  this  universal  and  primary  opinion  of  all  men  is  soon  de- 
 stroyed by  the  slightest  philosophy,  which  teaches  us  that  nothing 
 can  ever  be  present  to  the  mind  but  an  image  or  perception,  and 
 that  the  senses  are  only  the  inlets  through  which  these  images  are 
 conveyed,  without  being  able  to  produce  any  immediate  inter- 
 course between  the  mind  and  the  object.  The  table,  which  we 
 see,  seems  to  diminish,  as  we  remove  further  from  it:  but  the  real 
 table,  which  exists,  independent  of  us,  suffers  no  alteration:  it  was 
 therefore  nothing  but  its  image  which  was  present  to  the  mind. 
 These  are  the  obvious  dictates  of  reason ;  and  no  man  who  reflects 
 ever  doubted,  that  the  existences  which  we  sonsider,  when  we  say, 
 this  house  and  that  tree,  arc  nothing  but  perceptions  in  the  mind, 
 and  fleeting  copies  or  representations  of  other  existence?  which 
 remain  uniform  and  independent. 
 
 In  all  the  incidents  of  life,  we  ought  still  to  preserve  our  scep- 
 ticism. If  we  believe  that  lire  warms,  or  water  refreshes,  it  is 
 only  because  it  costs  too  muci!  pains  to  think  otherwise. 
 
 Not  only  are  the  senses  thus  subverted  but  reason 
 herself,  as  will  immediately  appear.     Says  Hume: 
 
 I  have  proved  that  these  same  principles,  when  carried  further, 
 and  applied  to  every  new  reflex  judgment,  must,  by  continually 
 diminishing  the  original  evidence,  at  last  reduce  it  to  nothing,  and 
 utterly  subvert  all  belief  and  opinion. 
 
 Again : 
 
 Reason  first  appears  in  possession  of  the  thione,  prescribing" 
 laws,  and  imposing  maxims,  with  an  absolute  sway  and  authority. 
 Her  enemy,  therefore,  is  obliged  to  take  shelter  under  her  protec- 
 tion, and  by  making  use  of  rational  arguments  to  prove  the  falla- 
 ciousness and  imbecility  of  reason,  produces,  in  a  manner,  a  patent 
 under  her  hand  and  seal.  This  patent  has  at  first  an  authority  of 
 reason,  from  which  it  is  derived.  But  as  it  is  supposed  to  be  con- 
 tradictory to  reason,  it  gradually  diminishes  the  force  of  that  gov- 
 erning power  and  its  own  at  the  same  time;  till  at  last  they 
 both  vanish  away  into  nothing,  by  a  regular  and  just  diminution. 
 
 "Nothing,"  nothingness  or  nihilism  is,  then,   in  Mr. 
 
 Hume's  own  language,  the  upshot  of  his  philosophy  and 
 
 he  follows  it  to  its  utmost  consequences: 
 
 I  am  uneasy  to  think  I  approve  of  one  object,  and  disapprove 
 of  another;  call  one  thing  beautiful,  and  another  deformed;  de- 
 cide concerning  truth  and  falsehood,  reason  and  folly,  without 
 knowing  upon  what  principles  I  proceed.  *  *  *  For  I  have 
 already  shown  that  the  understanding,  when  it  acts  alone,  and  ac- 
 cording to  its  most  general  principles,  entirely  subverts  itself,  and 
 leaves  not  the  lowest  degree  of  evidence  in  any  proposition,  either 
 in  philosophy  or  common  life 
 
LECTURE  OF    PRES.   UWS,  346 
 
 It  >s  curious,  us  already  intimated,  that  Hume  seems 
 so  servilely  to  repeat  Pyrrho.  Pyrrho  explained  his 
 practical  inconsistency,  by  saying-  it  was  a  difficult  thing 
 •entirely  to  put  off  humanity,  but  that  one  should  do  so 
 "with  his  actions  if  possible,  and  at  all  events  with  his 
 reason."  Hume  draws  the  matter  more  deftly  but,  in 
 precisely  the  same  maimer,  concedes  the  practical  ab- 
 surdity of  his  scheme,  thus: 
 
 The  great  subverter  oi"  Pyrrhonism,  or  the  excessive  princi- 
 ples of  scepticism,  is  action,  and  employment,  and  the  occupations 
 of  common  life.  These  principles  may  flourish  and  triumph  in 
 the  schools,  where  it  is  indeed  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  refute 
 them.  But  as  soon  as  they  leave  the  shade,  and  the  presence  of 
 the  real  objects  which  actuate  our  passions  and  sentiments  are  put 
 in  opposition  to  the  more  powerful  principles  of  our  nature,  the/ 
 vanish  like  smoke,  and  leave  the  most,  determined  sceptic  in  tine 
 tame  condition  as  other  mortals. 
 
 But  again : 
 
 For  here  is  the  chief  and  most  confounding  objection  to  ex 
 ■eessive  scepticism,  that  no  durable  good  can  ever  result  from  it, 
 while  it  remains  in  its  full  force  and  vigor. 
 
 We  save  ourselves  from  tins  total  scepticism  only  by  means 
 of  that  singular  and  seemingly  trivial  property  of  the  fancy,  by 
 which,  with  difficulty,  we  enter  into  remote  views  of  things  and 
 are  not  able  to  accompany  them  with  so  sensible  an  impression,  as 
 we  do  those  which  are  more  easy  and  natural.  *  *  We  have 
 therefore  no  choice  left,  but  betwixt  a  false  reason  and  none  at  all. 
 For  my  part,  I  know  not  what  ought  to  be  done  in  the  present 
 case.  I  can  only  observe  what  is  commonly  done;  which  is,  that 
 this  difficulty  is  seldom  or  never  thought  of. 
 
 Most  fortunately  it  happens,  that  since  reason  is  incapable  of 
 dispelling  these  clouds,  Nature  herself  suffices  to  that  purpose,  and 
 enres  me  of  this  philosophical  melancholy  and  delirium,  either  by 
 relaxing  this  bent  of  mind,  or  by  some  avocation,  and  lively  im- 
 pressions of  my  senses,  which  obliterate  all  these  chimeras.  I 
 dine,  I  play  a  game  of  backgammon,  I  converse,  and  am  merry 
 with  my  frienks;  and  when,  after  three  or  four  hours'  amusement, 
 I  would  return  to  these  speculations,  they  appear  so  cold,  and 
 strained,  and  ridiculous,  that  I  cannot  find  in  my  heart  to  enter 
 into  them  any  further. 
 
 Here,  then,  I  find  myself  absolutely  and  necessarily  deter- 
 mined to  live,  and  talk,  and  act  like  other  people  in  the  common 
 affairs  of  life.  But  notwithstanding  my  natural  propensity,  and 
 the  course  of  my  animal  spirits  and  passions  reduce  me  to  this  in- 
 dolent belief  in  the  general   maxims  of  the  world,  I  still  feel  such 
 
346  UNIVERSITY   OK   MISSOURI. 
 
 remains  of  my  former  disposition,  thai  I  am  ready  to  throw  all 
 my  books  and  papers  into  the  fire,  and  resolve  never  more  to  re- 
 nounce the  pleasures  of  life  for  the  sake  of  reasoning  and  phil- 
 osophy. For  those  are  my  sentiments  in  that  splenetic  humor 
 which  governs  me  at  present.  I  may,  nay  I  must  yield  tc  the 
 current  of  nature,  in  submitting  to  my  senses  and  understanding; 
 and  in  this  blind  submission,  I  show  most  perfectly  my  sceptical 
 disposition  and  principles.  *  *  No:  if  I  must:  be  a  fool,  as  all 
 those  who  reason  or  believe  anything  certainly  are,  my  follies  shall 
 at  least  be  natural  and  agreeable. 
 
 The  foregoing  extracts  must  suffice  for  indicating  in 
 the  main  our  estimate  of  Hume  on  the  present  occasion, 
 although   it  differs   from  that  of  some  able  critics. 
 
 Hamilton  credits  Hume  with  only  a  negative  aim 
 and  result.  He  says  "The  sceptic,  qua  sceptic,  cannot 
 himself  lay  down  his  premises;  he  can  only  accept 
 them  from  the  dogmatist.1'  *  *  "Hume  was  a  sceptic; 
 that  is,  he  accepted  the  premises  afforded  him  hy  the 
 dogmatist  and  carried  these  premises  to  their  legitimate 
 consequences.  To  blame  Hume,  therefore,  for  not  hav- 
 ing doubted  of  his  borrowed  principles,  is  to  blame  the 
 sceptic  for  not  performing  a  part  altogether  inconsistent 
 with  his  vocation."  Now,  it  should  be  borne  in  mind* 
 that  Berkely  had  already  destroyed  matter,  and  that 
 Hume  undertook  to  show  that,  by  the  same  process,  or 
 by  parity  of  reasoning,  the  destruction  of  mind  was 
 inevitable.  His  fundamental  position  was  expressed  thus* 
 "All  the  perceptions  of  the  human  mind  resolve  them- 
 selves into  two  distinct  kinds,  which  I  call  impressions 
 and  ideas.  The  difference  betwixt  them  consists  in  the 
 degrees  of  force  and  liveliness  with  which  they  strike 
 upon  the  mind  and  make  their  way  into  our  thought  or 
 consciousness.  Those  perceptions  which  enter  with 
 most  force  and  violence,  we  may  name  impressions^  and 
 under  this  name  1  comprehend  all  our  sensations,  pas- 
 sions nnd  emotions,  as  they  make  their  first  appearance 
 in  the  soul.    By  ideas,!  mean  the  faint  images  of  these  in* 
 
L.KCTCKE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  347 
 
 thinking  and  reasoning."  Matter  and  mind  are  resolved 
 into  a  congeries  of  impressions  and  their  fading  pictures, 
 so  that  the  sum  total  of  knowledge  is  phenomenal  and 
 only  phenomenal.  As  already  explained,  this  is  nihilism. 
 Hume  swept  away  both  matter  and  mind  as  substantive 
 realities,  and  in  spite  of  his  utterly  discrediting  reason, 
 his  speculations  then  took  a  positive  phase,  and  ou  the 
 basis  indicated  in  the  above  extract,  respecting  "impres- 
 sions and  ideas,"  he  constructed  a  complete  system  of  the 
 human  mind.  If  the  office  of  a  sceptic  be  purely  nega- 
 tive, then  Hume  was  something  more  than  a  sceptic,  for, 
 unlike  Pyrrho,  he  assumed  the  aggressive  role  of  a  posi- 
 tive constructive  philosopher.  And  sto  successful  was  he 
 in  this  as  to  reduce  the  world  to  the  alternative  of  ac- 
 cepting his  positive  system  of  phenomenalism  or  of  re- 
 constructing its  philosophy,  and  the  most  notorious  fea- 
 ture of  the  philosophy  of  the  present  is  the  fact  that  its 
 votaries  mainly  fall  into  two  groups,  those  who  stand 
 with  Hume  in  his  phenomenalism  or  positiveism  and 
 those  who  antagonize  it  and  stand  with  Reid  and 
 Hamilton  in  their  realism.  Hamilton  says:  "The  dilem- 
 ma of  Hume  constitutes,  perhaps,  the  most  memorable 
 crisis  in  the  history  of  philosophy;  for  out  of  it  the 
 whole  subsequent  metaph)'sic  of  Europe  has  taken  its 
 rise."  The  actual  dilemma  was,  as  I  have  stated  it,  the 
 alternative  between  nihilism  and  realism  or  phenome- 
 nalism and  noumenalism.     The  battle  still  rages. 
 
 Hume  was  a  Pyrrohonist,  but  he  was  more  than  a 
 Pyrrohonist;  he  was  a  sceptic,  but  he  was  more  than  a 
 sceptic;  his  criticism  resulted  not  only  in  destructive  ni- 
 hilism, but  in  constructive  nihilism.  As  a  sceptic  his  aim 
 was  destructive  and  it  succeeded  in  knocking  many 
 false  props  from  under  knowledge,  but  his  renewal 
 of  the  daring   and  sacnhgious   attempt   to   destroy  the 
 
848  UNIVERSITY    OP   MISSOURI. 
 
 temple  of  knowledge  itself,  was  a  failure;  yea,  his  !>old 
 assault  only  resulted  in  the  foundations  of  knowledge 
 being  laid  deeper  and  broader.  But  as  Pascal  happily 
 says,  and  we  have  seen  it  illustrated  in  both  Pyrrho  and 
 Hume, — "Nature  subverts  scepticism  and  reason  sub- 
 verts dogmatism:" 
 
 Truth  crushed   tu  earth  will  rise  again, 
 The  eternal  years  of  God  are  hers. 
 
 The  third  name  mentioned  as  in  the  van  ot  nihilism, 
 was  that  of  J.  G.  Fichte,  1762-1514,  A.  D.  He  did  not 
 professedly  play  the  role  of  the  sceptic,  but  his  idealistic 
 dogmatism  is  even  a  more  thoroughgoing  nihilism  than 
 that  oi"  either  Pyrrho  or  Hume.  The  following  re- 
 markable passage  from  Fichte's  "Bestimmung  des  raen- 
 schen,"  tells  the  whole  story  : 
 
 The  sum  total  is  this:  There  is  absolutely  nothing  perma- 
 nent either  without  me  or  within  me,  hut  only  an  unceasing 
 change.  I  know  absolutely  nothing  of. any  existence,  not  even  of 
 my  own.  I  myself  know  nothing  and  am  nothing.  Image* 
 (Bilder)  there  are;  they  constitute  all  that  apparently  exists,  and 
 what  they  know  of  themselves  is  after  the  manner  of  images; 
 images  that  pass  and  vanish  without  then  being  aught  to  witness 
 their  transition;  that  consist  in  fact  of  the  images  of  images,  with- 
 out significance  and  without  an  aim.  I  myself  am  one  of  these 
 images;  nay,  I  am  not  even  thus  much,  but  only  a  confused  image 
 of  images.  All  reality  is  converted  into  a  marvellous  dream, 
 without  a  life  to  dream,  and  without  a  mind  to  dream;  with  a 
 dream  made  up  only  of  a  dream  of  itself.  Perception  is  a  dream; 
 thought — the  source  of  all  the  existence  and  all  the  reality  which 
 I  imagine  to  myself  of  my  existence,  of  my  power,  of  my  desti- 
 nation— is  the  dream  of  that  dream. — H's  Reid,  p.  129*. 
 
 Such  an  utteranee  as  this  one  oi  Fichte  has  on  the 
 individual  mind  a  soporific  influence  and  recalls  the  Nir- 
 wana,  the  Hindoo  doctrine  of  the  individual  souPs 
 extinguishment  oy  being  blown  out  like  a  lamp  in  the 
 phraseology  of  Buddhism,  that  ancient  system  of  Nihil- 
 ism.    (Max  Midler's  Chips,  I.  279,  280.)' 
 
 Travelers  sometimes  call  our  attention  to  a  most  re- 
 markable phenomenon  of  nature  which  we,  after  the 
 French,  call  a  mirage.     At  one  time,  it  may  be  the  ap- 
 
LHCTX7BK    OF   PKK6,    LAWS.  349 
 
 pearance  of  pools  and  lakes  of  water  in  sandy  and  desert 
 places  where  water  is  most  needed  and  least  likely  to 
 occur;  at  another,  it  may  be  a  calm  flowing  water,  re- 
 flecting from  its  unruffled  .surface  the  trees  growing  on 
 its  banks,  while  objects  in  the  background  assume  the 
 appearance  of  splendid  residences  amidst  groves  of 
 trees,  or  of  castles  embosomed  in  a  forest  of  palms  with 
 outlying  lakes  dotted  with  verdant  and  beautiful  little 
 islands.  The  illusion  is  often  so  perfect  in  all  its  circum- 
 stances that  the  most  experienced  travelers  and  even  the 
 natives  of  the  desert  are  deluded  by  it;  and  an  experi- 
 enced eastern  traveler  observes,  that  "no  one  can 
 imagine,  without  actual  experience,  the  delight  and  eager 
 expectation,  followed  by  the  most  intense  and  bitter  dis- 
 appointment, which  the  appearance  of  the  mirage  often 
 occasions  traveling  parties,  particularly  when  the  supply 
 of  water  which  they  are  obliged  to  carry  with  them  on 
 their  camels  is  nearly  or  quite  exhausted." 
 
 "Still  the  same  burning  sun!  no  cloud  in  heaven! 
 "The  hot  air  quivers,  and  the  sultry  mist 
 "Floats  o'er  the  desert,  with  a  show 
 "Of  distant  waters  mocking  their  distress." 
 
 The  phantom  ship,  which  the  early  colonists  of  our 
 country  beheld  in  the  air,  as  a  supposed  divine  interposi- 
 tion in  answer  to  their  earnest  cries  to  heaven  for  sup- 
 plies to  meet  their  desperate  necessities,  was  but  a  mock- 
 ing mirage.  But  may  we  not  in  all  seriousness  ask, 
 whether  the  delusion  of  those  who  transmute  these 
 empty  images  into  substantial  realities  is  any  greater 
 than  the  delusion  of  those  who  change  the  life  sustaining 
 realities  of  the  universe  into  the  splendid  mockery  of  a 
 sceptical  mirage.  Surely  it  is  a  much  more  pleasing 
 service  which  the  great  Shemitic  peer  of  the  Aryan 
 Homer,  renders,  when,  in  his  vision,  he  holds  before  us 
 the  literal  realization  of  actual  blessings  as  surprising  as 
 
850  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI 
 
 the  conversion  of  the  illusion  of  the  mirage  into  a  sub- 
 stantial reality: 
 
 Then  shall  be  unclosed  the  eyes  of  the  blind; 
 And  the  ears  of  the  deaf  shall  be  opened : 
 Then  shall  the  lame  bound  like  a  hart, 
 And  the  tongue  of  the  dumb  shall  sing: 
 For  in  the  wilderness  shall  burst  forth  waters, 
 And  torrents  in  the  desert: 
 And  the  glowing  sand  shall  become  a  poll, 
 And  the  thirsty  soil  bubbling  springs. 
 
 Let  us  rather  welcome  an  excess  of  realism  than 
 the  hollow  and  unatural  emptiness  of  nihilism. 
 
 In  the  spring  of  1874,  James  Parton,  the  well 
 known  author,  was  elected  President  of  the  "N.  Y. 
 Liberal  Club,"  and  on  assuming  the  chair,  among  other 
 things,  said:  "Here  we  are,  this  human  race  of  ours, 
 tossed  upon  this  round  ball  of  earth,  naked  and  shel- 
 terless, sent  rolling  through  space.  Why? — we  don't 
 know;  whence? — we  don't  know;  and  whither? — we 
 don't  know, — that  is  to  say,  I  don't  know.  If  there  are 
 any  here  so  fortunate  as  to  know,  I  tender  them  my  re- 
 spectful congratulations.  But  for  my  own  part,  I  only 
 clearly  know  that  I  don't  know." 
 
 This  is  the  inevitable  outlook  of  faithless  nihilism. 
 No  wonder  that  its  gloom,  which  horrified  the  mind  of 
 Hume,  should  bewilder  a  Parton. 
 
 11.     Realism: 
 
 We  now  turn  our  thought  from  the  dreary  chaos  of 
 nihilism  and  seek  a  firmer  looting  upon  the  continent  of 
 realism.  I  have  often  thought  of  an  incident  when  I 
 was  a  college  student.  A  letter  was  received  from  one 
 of  the  last  graduating  class,  giving  a  description  of  his 
 experience  in  a  new  line  of  study.  "Yes  boys,"  said 
 George,  "I  am  studying  Hebrew;  but  I  feel  like  a  blind 
 sheep  in  a  millpond,  for  I  can  neither  see  shore  nor 
 touch  bottom."     The  fact  was,  George  was  not  a  very 
 
TiECTURK   OF    PKES,    LAWS.  351 
 
 apt  scholar  in  language;  the  difficulty  was  subjective  and 
 not  objective,  for  this  language  is  remarkable  for  its  sim- 
 plicity and  perfection.  And  thus  it  is  that  the  nihilist 
 flounders,  for  to  him  the  moral  and  physical  reality, 
 order  and  beauty  of  nature  are  a  chaos — 
 
 "A  dark 
 Illimitable  ocean,  without  bound, 
 
 Without  dimension,  where  length  breadth  and  height, 
 And  time  and  place,  are  lost;  where  endless  night 
 And  chaoe,  ancestors  of  Nature,  hold 
 Eternal  anarchy-" 
 
 It  is  important  at  this  point  to  recall  the  view  that 
 consciousness  is  the  great  storehouse  of  the  materials, 
 the  lountain  of  the  stream,  the  Bible  of  Philosophy. 
 Consciousness  is  sometimes  vaguely  and  popularly  used 
 for  what  may  at  any  time  have  been  a  distinct  matter 
 of  knowledge,  as,  I  am  not  conscious  of  ever  having 
 made  the  remark  attributed  to  me;  and  then,  it  has  been 
 understood  in  the  too  narrow  sense  of  a  particular  fac- 
 ulty coordinate  with  other  particular  faculties  and  whose 
 function  or  office  it  is  to  take  note  of  their  operations; 
 whereas,  the  better  view  esteems  consciousness  as  the 
 root  of  our  intelligence,  so  that  the  particular  powers 
 are  only  the  modifications  or  sharers  in  common,  each  in 
 its  measure,  of  its  vitality  and  energy.  This  generic  view 
 as  distinguished  from  the  popular  and  specific  views,seems 
 to  define  the  nature  of  this  canon  of  philosophy.  But 
 the  nature  and  the  sphere  of  the  activity  of  this  generic 
 function  of  our  intelligent  being,  may,  for  reasons 
 which  cannot  now  be  canvassed,  be  viewed  as  threefold, 
 i.  e.,  (i)  phenomenal,  (2)  noumenal  and  (3)  inferential. 
 However,  as  some  limit  consciousness  entirely  to  the 
 facts  or  phenomena  of  experience,  the  word  intuition, 
 which  means  the  power  of  the  immediate  vision  of 
 truth  on  the  apprehension  of  its  evidence,  whether  that 
 
863  UN1VEBS1TV    OK   MISSOUKf. 
 
 evidence  be  direct  or  mediate,  may  with  propriety  be 
 made  to  do  duty  in  this  tripple  service:  and  then,  our 
 phenomenal  intuition  will  coincide  with  consciousness 
 and  the  noumenal  and  inferential  intuitions  will  be  distinc- 
 tive. The  bearing-  of  this  will  be  evident  farther  ont 
 for  as  thus  defined,  intuition  rather  than  consciousness  is 
 the  true  and  valid  criterion  of  philosophy.  Of  course  the 
 operation  of  intuition,  like  that  of  every  other  power,  has 
 its  root  in  consciousness;  but  it  is  something  more  than 
 consciousness,  just  as  each  specific  power  is  consciousness 
 plus  a  defferential  element,  as  memory,  thought,  imagi- 
 nation, feeling,  will,  to  all  of  which  consciousness  stands 
 in  common  relation  and  each  of  which  has  its  character- 
 istic and  discriminating  form  of  energy.  Consciousness 
 is  not  coextensive  either  with  mind  or  with  mental 
 activity. 
 
 The  facts  of  consciousness  have  two  aspects,  as  they 
 are  viewed  simply  as  phenomenal  appearances  in  some 
 sense  or  other,  or  as  they  are  viewed  as  evidencing  some- 
 thiug  other  than  themselves.  It  is  the  province  of  met- 
 aphysics to  consider  at  large  these  facts  of  consciousness, 
 subjectively  or  internally  in  relation  to  the  mind  know- 
 ing, and  objectively  or  externally  in  relation  to  the  things 
 known.  Psychology  is  the  science  of  both  classes  of 
 these  facts  of  consciousness,  as  such,  inter  se\  but  ontol- 
 ogy deals  with  these  facts  in  relation  to  realities  existing 
 out  of  consciousness.  When  these  facts  are  vacated  of 
 all  substantial  import,  the  world  is  an  empty  plantasma- 
 goria  and  the  result  is  nihilism;  when  credited  with  sub- 
 stantive validity,  in  whatever  measure,  a  corresponding 
 realism  is  the  result. 
 
 As  a  matter  of  fact  we  have  three  specific  forms  of 
 realism,  viz.,  the  unitarian,  the  dualistic  and  the  theistic. 
 Each  of  these  must  be  briefly  expounded. 
 
LECTURE    OF    PK;-.^.    f.AW't,'.  368 
 
 i.     Unitarian   realism.     This    holds    that   1 
 nomena  of  consci  re  of  the 
 
 primary  fact  of  k 
 
 that   this    :  single.       •    . 
 
 varh  •  brm   of  realism.  irst  is 
 
 idea'!     •.    w        h  mal  ind         :  ■  ; 
 
 secoi.  '  .  ■        terialism,  which 
 stance;  and  of  al 
 
 views  the  proper  th   mind 
 
 common  properti< 
 ing  substance.     J  •      ■ 
 
 a  bri   .   •  and  in  tl 
 
 ('  i.)       The    first,    then,    is  .  , 
 
 and  only    substantial  ind. 
 
 ]  '  ii  of  nunc!,    as  a    thin  tantive    re- 
 
 ality, is   pla<  I  doubt  by  a  uun- 
 
 •n.       Lut    us      Irop     the 
 doubt;  and,   \  tdly 
 
 the 
 exteri    .  own  exi 
 
 it  is  said  that  all 
 
 the  doul  t  itselt  is  ex   epted   which  did  put  a  else 
 
 i  obvi  ■  to  overth] 
 
 i tsel f,  1  .    i        •   .  i    tin  • 
 
 ;'  as  an  ultii  ,i.      j-;U( 
 
 doubting  is  consci 
 
 Now,  to  made  and  be- 
 
 lieved to  s,  as  this  act  of  thin! 
 
 s    in        a  the    :;  i  of  ■   menal  intuiti  be  think- 
 
 ing self  is  cognize         >l    b  Irom  this  fact,  but 
 
 directly,  instantaneously,  and  necessarily   by  a  power  of 
 the   mind   which   J.   have  ventu      1  loumenal 
 
 intuition.     As    ordinarily     interpreted,    we    cannot:    be 
 conscious  of  self  but  only    of  the   mental    modification 
 
354  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 through  which  self  is  mediately  known  or  inferred:  just 
 -as  we  are  not  conscious  of  our  mental  powers  them- 
 selves, but  only  of  their  actions:  whereas,  there  seems 
 evidently  to  be  an  endowment  directly  cognizing  self 
 cuid  its  powers,  as  the  logical  antecedant  or  apriori  con- 
 dition of  intuiting  their  operations,  and  this  endowment 
 is  made  distinctive  and  intelligible  by  designating  it  the 
 noumenal  intuition.  However,  if  the  function  of  con- 
 sciousness itself  be  extended  so  as  to  embrace  it,  very 
 well,  provided  it  is  understood. 
 
 This  exposition  covers  the  ground  of  Descartes' 
 Cogito,  ergo  sum.  This  expression  is  sometimes  viewed 
 as  an  enthymeme,  or  syllogism  with  one  premise  sup- 
 pressed; and  by  supplying  it,  the  full  argument  would 
 be:  whatever  thinks  exists;  I  think;  therefore,  I  exist. 
 But  the  major  premise,  whatever  thinks  exists,  is  an  ab- 
 stract universal  proposition,  and  therefore  it  is  not  in  its 
 primary  and  spontaneous  form.  The  necessity  and  im- 
 mediacy of  the  conjunction  of  thought  and  self  are  just 
 as  imperative  in  the  original  and  concrete  particular  act 
 of  consciousness  and  intuition,  as  in  the  abstract  universal 
 form  of  reflection  and  logic.  The  ergo  evidently  leads 
 away  from  the  original  concrete  fact,  in  its  spontaneous 
 and  intuitional  form,  to  its  scientific  and  formulated 
 phase;  just  as  the  proposition,  every  chcuigc  must  have  a 
 cause,  is  not  the  original  fact  of  intuition  in  its  spon- 
 taneous form.  The  original  judgment  contemplates 
 onlv  an  individual  concrete  change,  as  necessarily  refera- 
 ble to  an  antecedent  and  adequate  action  of  force;  and 
 the  universal  proposition  is  not  properly  a  generalization 
 upon  a  multitude  of  instances,  but  merely  the  unlimited 
 statement  of  what  is  found  true  in  every  instance  of  a 
 change.  The  repetitious  instances  do  not  furnish  the 
 particulars  of  an  induction,  but  only  particular  illustra- 
 
LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  355 
 
 tions  of  the  same  identical  primitive  concrete  judgment, 
 so  that  reflection  converts  the  concrete  psychological 
 judgment,  by  abstraction,  into  the  universal  logical  judg- 
 ment. Just  so,  /  think  and  I  exist  is  the  primary  con- 
 crete and  complex  psychological  intuition;  but  the  prop- 
 osition taken  as  the  major  premise  of  Descartes'  syllo- 
 gism, whatever  thinks  exists,  results  from  reflection  and 
 abstraction,  but  not  from  generalization,  in  the  empirical 
 sense,  which  can  only  enunciate  what  is  and  not  what 
 must  be. 
 
 If  I  am  asked  how  I  know  that  I  exist?  and  answer 
 that  I  am  conscious  of  it,  the  answer  is  seen,  in  the  light 
 of  the  foregoing  exposition,  to  be  valid  and  beyond  the 
 reach  of  doubt.  A  fact  of  phenomenal  and  of  noume- 
 nal  intuition  may  be  explained  and  illustrated,  but  can 
 neither  be  proved  nor  disproved;  it  is  not  amenable  to 
 logic,  but  only  to  common  sense;  and  logic  itself  is  pos- 
 sible, only  on  the  assumption  of  the  priority  of  the  ex- 
 istence and   authority  of  such  realities. 
 
 Realism,  then,  has  a  sure  footing,  as  to  the  substan- 
 tial reality  of  self,  which  is  the  veritable  warp  of  knowl- 
 edge, however  diverse  and  party  colord  may  be  its 
 woof.  The  fact  of  human  thought  is  assumed  in  all 
 systems  of  philosophy,  in  all  sciences  and  in  all  expe- 
 rience whether  in  self  communion,  in  man's  intercourse 
 with  man  or  with  all  .things  other  than  self.  This  sub- 
 stantial self-hood,  which  refutes  and  survives  all  nihilism, 
 is  literally  our  ftou  sto,  a  sure  footing  in  the  domain  of 
 reality,  to  which  we  gravitate  by  the  necessities  of  our 
 rational  nature  and  from  which  all  imagined  escapes  are 
 illusory  self-deceptions.  Self  is  the  terra  fir  ma  of 
 thought,  from  which  our  rational  nature  can  no  more 
 escape  than  our  bodies  from  the  operation  of  the  law  of 
 gravitation. 
 
356  TjNIVKKStTY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 just  been  '  h  is  the  truth,  but 
 it  is  not  the  whole  truth.  Idealistic  unitarian  realism 
 admits  only  the  real  or  -  inti  1  exis  :nce  of  mind, 
 but  denies  the  substantial  nee  of  matter.      A   few- 
 
 citations   from   Bishop  Berkeley   will   complete   all  that 
 need  be  said  at  present  on  this  point: 
 
 The  table  I   write  on,  1    sa      e  that  is,  f   see  and   f 
 
 ami  if  I   were  out  of  my  study  I  should  say   it  existed,  meaning 
 thereby   that  it  1    was   in   my  studj    !  :eive  it,  or  that 
 
 some  other  spirit  actually  does  "'  *      ["his  is  all  that  I 
 
 can  understand  by  these'and  th  ions.     For  as  to  what 
 
 is  said  of  the  absolul  tee  of  un thin  without  any 
 
 relation  to  their  1  rceived,  tha  ';    unintelligi- 
 
 ble    Their  esse   is  percipi,  nor  ;  e  uld  have' 
 
 any  exist,-  r  thinking  I  ,-hich  perceive 
 
 them . 
 
 imongsl    men, 
 that  houses,  mountains,  ri       -.  a  word  all  sensible  objects- 
 
 have  a  real,         inct   from   th  \  per- 
 
 ceived b\  die  understanding.      Bui    with  •  urance 
 
 andacqi  this  principle  i  rtained  in  the 
 
 world;  ve  "    shall  And  in  his  heart  to  call  it  in  question, 
 
 may,  if  "In  ceive  to  im  ;t  contradiction. 
 
 Some  trutl  '''!at  a 
 
 man  need  only  open  his  eves  to  :  m  Such  1  take  this  im- 
 portant one  to  be,  to-  wit,  that  al  •'  llurniture 
 of  the  earth,  in  a  word  ■  -  the" 
 mighty  frame  of  the  world,  ha  •  'nee  without  a 
 mind,  that  the  ■  '  known ;  that  conse- 
 quently so  long  as  they  -  ,  or  do 
 not  exist  in  my  mind  or  tha  •  I  spirit,  the} 
 must  either  hav  '  at  all,  or  <  t  in  the  1  dnd  of 
 some  eternal  spirit:  it  being  perfectly  uni  ie  and  involving 
 all  the  absurdity  of  abstraction,  to  attribi  te  1  rt  of 
 them  an  existence  independent  of  a  spirit.  To  be  convinced  of 
 which  the  reader  need  only  reflect  and  try  to  in  his  own 
 ihoughts  the  being  o                ■  le  thing  from  its  being  perceived. 
 
 From    what  has  been   said,  it  follows    there  is  not  any  other 
 substance  than    spirit,  or  that  which  pel    t  i 
 
 Bishop  Berkeley  is  acknowledged  to  be  a  represen- 
 tative idealistic  realist,  and  the  language  of  these  ex- 
 tracts is  too  explicit  to  admit  of  any  question  that,  whilst 
 he  gave  to  the  external  world   a  phenomenal   and   appa- 
 
LECTURE    OF  PBES.  LAWS.  357 
 
 rent  reality,  he  utterly  denied  its  non-spiritual  .substantial 
 reality  and  held  that  "there  is  not  any  other  substance 
 than  spirit."  But  in  his  mind  there  was  no  question 
 about  the  individual  substantial  reality  of  an  infinite 
 spirit  or  God,  and  of  finite  spirits.  Matter  is  a  phenom- 
 enon of  mind. 
 
 (2.)  The  second  form  of  unitarian  realism  goes  to 
 precisely  the  opposite  extreme  -and  holds  th;:t  "there  is 
 not  any  othei  substance"  than  matter.  Materialism, 
 co.i:-  me  .  ••  -,  ond  form  of 
 unitarian  realism  is  most  familiarly  known.  As  in 
 idealism,  or  philosophic  spiritualism,  all  the  phenomena 
 of  matter  are  explained  •  phenomena  of  mind, 
 so  in  materialism,  all  the  ph<  1  of  mind  are  ex- 
 plained awa  1  nomena  o  .  The  unitarian 
 psychologists  reai  .  explaining  all  knowl- 
 edge   as  <             nsformed    sensations,  whether 
 
 the  phi i.  which  this  magical  transmu- 
 
 tation is.  1  flection  of  Locke,  the  associa- 
 
 tion of  others,  or  the  two  combined.  Nihil  est  in  in- 
 tellectzt  quod  non  fitit  prius  in  sensu — there  is  nothing 
 in  the   inti  which   was   not  previously  a  sensation,. 
 
 This  is  the  aci  .iom  of  all  such  as  hold  thus  view. 
 
 This  adag  ly  and  universal  rule  for  interpre- 
 
 ting,    ..  .  .  of  coi    pious- 
 
 ness. It  has  been  wittily  observed  of  the  associational 
 psychologists,  that  "whenever  one  of  their  fundamental 
 assumptions  is  contradicted  by  the  experience  of  man- 
 hood, it  is  easy  to  say  thai  in  infancy — a  period  of  which 
 anything  .  firmed,  since  nothing  is  remembered 
 
 — it  was  strictly  true.  This  is  certainly  making  the 
 most  of  early  years.  The  small  child  is  put  into  the 
 association  mill,  and  after  a  little  brisk  grinding  13 
 brought   out   with   a   comnlete   set   of  mental    furniture. 
 
358  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 When  the  critic  reaches  the  spot  he  is  blandly  told  that 
 the  work  is  done,  and  the  machinery  put  away.  He  is 
 further  warned  that  any  search  on  his  part  will  be  use- 
 less; as  the  traces  of  manufacture  have  been  entirely 
 obliterated."  The  cultivators  of  various  branches  of 
 physical  science  are  much  given  to  this  materialistic 
 realism.  In  that  little  book  entitled  "The  Unseen  Uni- 
 verse," which  made  a  sensation  at  the  time  of  its  anony- 
 mous publication,  but  which  is  now  known  to  be  the 
 joint  product  of  the  distinguished  physicists  Stewart  and 
 Tait,  the  case  is  put  in  the  following  striking  language: 
 
 Is  there  not,  therefore,  a  reality  about  matter  which  there  is 
 not  about  mind?  Can  we  conceive  a  single  particle  of  matter  to 
 go  out  of  the  universe  for  six  or  eight  hours  and  then  to  return  to 
 it;  but  do  we  not  every  day  lisee  our  consciousness  disappearing" 
 in  the  case  of  deep  sleep,  or  in  a  swoon,  and  then  returning  to  us 
 again?  Far  be  it  from  us  to  deny  that  we  have  something  which 
 is  called  consciousness,  and  is  utterly  distinct  from  matter  and  the 
 properties  of  matter,  as  these  are  regarded  in  Physics.  But  may 
 not  the  connection  between  the  two  be  of  this  nature? — When  a 
 certain  number  of  material  particles,  consisting  of  phosphorus, 
 carbon,  oxygen,  hydrogen,  nitrogen,  and  perhaps  some  others,  are 
 in  consequence  of  the  operations  of  their  physical  forces,  in  a 
 certain  position  with  respect  to  each  other,  and  in  a  certain  state 
 of  motion,  consciousness  is  the  result,  but  whenever  this  connec- 
 tion is  brought  to  an  end,  there  is  also  an  end  of  consciousness 
 and  the  sense  of  individual  existence,  while  however  the  particles 
 of  phosphorus,  carbon,  etc.,  remain  as  truly  as  ever. 
 
 Now  this  means  that  matter  must  be  looked  upon  as  mis- 
 tress of  the  house,  and  consciousness  as  an  occasional  visitor 
 whom  she  permits  to  take  of  her  hospitality,  turning  him  out  of 
 doors  whenever  the  larder  is  empty.  It  is  worth  while  to  investi- 
 gate the  process  of  thought  which  gives  rise  to  this  curious  con- 
 ception of  the  economy  of  the  universe. 
 
 In  his  work  on  the  "Diseases  of  the  Nervous  Sys- 
 tem," which  is  widely  circulated  among  the  medical  pro- 
 fession, Dr.  Hammond  "looks  at  the  brain  as  a  complex 
 organ  evolving  a  complex  force — the  mind."  Again  he 
 says: 
 
 The    mind,    therefore,    as    before    stated,  is    a    compound  force 
 evolved   by  the  brain,  and  its   elements  are  perception,    intellect, 
 
LECTURE    OF   PRES.    LAWS.  359 
 
 emotion  and  will.  The  sun  likewise  evolves  a  compound  force, 
 and  its  elements  are  light,  heat  and  actinism.  One  of  these  forces, 
 light,  is  again  divisible  into  several  primary  colors,  and  the  intel- 
 lect of  man,  one  of  the  mental  forces,  is  made  up  of  faculties.  It 
 would  be  easy  to  pursue  the  analogy  still  further,  but  enough  has 
 been  said  to  indicate  how  clearly  the  relationship  between  brain 
 and  mind  is  that  of  matter  and  force. 
 
 The  false  intellectual  conception  is  then  a  fixed  result  of  the 
 _  altered  brain  tissue,  and  is  just  as  direct  a  consequence  of  cerebral 
 action  as  is  a  thought  from  a  healthy  brain. 
 
 My  own  idea  of  insanity  is  based  entirely  on  the  fact,  that  as 
 the  healthy  mind  results  from  the  healthy  brain,  so  a  disordered 
 mind  comes  from  a  diseased  brain. 
 
 In  Vol.  I,  of  Prof.  Flint's  Physiology,  the  follow- 
 ing admirable  passage  from  Longet  is  quoted  with  ap- 
 proval : 
 
 In  his  psychical  relations,  but  in  these,  only,  man  can  constitute 
 a  distinct  kingdom.  Physiology  has  especially  in  view  the  acts 
 which  assimilate  man  to  animals;  it  belongs  to  psychology  to 
 study  and  make  known  the  faculties  which  separate  him  from 
 them. 
 
 In  Vol.  IV,  published  a  number  of  years  later,  it  is 
 laid  down  in  the  text,  p.  377,  "that  there  is  and  can  be 
 no  intelligence  without  brain  substance.  *  *  *  The 
 brain  is  not,  strictly  speaking,  the  organ  of  the  mind, 
 but  the  mind  is  produced  by  the  brain  substance." 
 
 Dr.  Maudsley  criticises  the  proposition  of  Cabanis, 
 "that  the  brain  secretes  thought  as  the  liver  secretes  bile," 
 because,  he  says,  mind,  the  product  of  brain  action,  can- 
 not, like  bile,  the  product  of  liver  action,  "be  observed 
 and  handled  and  dealt  with  as  a  palpable  object."  *  *  * 
 "Nevertheless,"  he  states,  "it  must  be  distinctly  laid 
 down,  that  mental  action  is  as  surely  dependent  on  the 
 nervous  structure  as  the  function  of  the  liver  confessedly 
 is  on  the  hepatic  structure."  It  would  seem,  then,  that 
 Cabanis  and  Hammond  and  Flint  and  Maudsley,  not  to 
 extend  the  list,  hold  substantially  the  same  view  of  mind, 
 as   a   mere  phenomenal   function   of  the   nervous  tissue. 
 
860  UNIVERSITY    OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 At  death  the  stomach  will  cease  to  secrete  gastric  juice, 
 the  liver  will  stop  secretin;;-  bile,  and  n-^rve  tissue — 
 "brain  substance"  —  will  no  longer  fun  I  late  and 
 evolve  mind-  •   to  be  passed  in, 
 
 silence  and  yi  'tendon  of  the 
 
 most  unwary.  But  it  is  the  object,  in  this  connection, 
 only  to  submit  a  state  iment:  and  hence 
 
 it -is  to  mention  to  you,  that  in  a  th  sis   on  the 
 
 "Dual  (  ini;  of  Mai    ';         ich  is  is   accessible 
 
 to  you,   I   ha\  I  ibis  pre:  <         si    ,  as  to  the  re- 
 
 lation of  mind  to  our  nervous  h  and  shown,  that 
 
 it  is  not  a  function  but  a  furictioner  of  nerve  force. 
 
 Prof.  Huxh  :     "There  r      on  to  be- 
 
 lieve that  consciousness  is  a  fu  /mis  matter." 
 
 — (Huxley's  I  '  -o.) 
 
 Prof.  Ty  the  pi    sical  life  dealt 
 
 with  •'    Darwin,  then   i        psycl  ical  life  presenting 
 
 similar  gradations,  and i  solution.** 
 
 I  descern  in  that  matte    ■  '  therto  covered 
 
 opprobrium,  the  pro  f  all  terres- 
 
 trial  life." — (]  /ised    by   auth  .80 
 
 and  89.) 
 
 .  ;scartes'  death,  Thom       Elobbes 
 
 of  Main  '..shed    the  from 
 
 whir';  lade: 
 
 ton,  is  the  con- 
 stant *  *  *  I  words 
 Bod1  Micd, 
 Substance 
 
 mosi.  general  ' 
 
 some  .                                                         ;.    *  *  *    The   i  so   is 
 
 •»  * 
 
 And  '  and  Body 
 
 signi:  incorporeal! 
 
 are  v  destroj  one 
 another,  as  if  a  man  should  say,  "An  Incoi 
 
 But  Hobbes  had      .  his  studies  in  Paris,  where 
 
I»ECTTJRE      r    PKES.    fcAWS.  Sf/1 
 
 he  was  in  constant  intercourse  with  Gassendi  (1592-1655) 
 who  attempted  the  revival  of  Epicureanism  and  is 
 "styled  the  renewer  in  modern  times  of  systematic  ma- 
 terialism." The  influence  ol  ;e  two  names,  for  more 
 than  two  hundred  years,  over     '         .  ■ '"  i  .      :   who 
 
 have  sympathized  with  or  repeated  their  futile  attempt 
 to  solve  the  problem  of  knowledge  by  clothing  matter 
 with  the  attributes  of  mind,  thus  cutting'  instead  of 
 untying  the  Gordian  knot,  hi  trans<  led  consciousness 
 and  computation. 
 
 (3.)  The  third  form  of  realistic  '  "ianism  possesses 
 a  present  interest,  exceeding  tl  •  ither  of  the  other 
 two  forms.  Those  who  stai  .  this  "  md  do  not  at- 
 tempt to  destroy  the  substantiality  of  matter  by  making 
 it  a  phenomenon  of  mind,  :      lid  tl  tic  Berkeley; 
 
 nor  the  sul    .      tiality  oi  mind  by   .  phenom- 
 
 enon of  matter,  as  did  the  materiali  bes;  nor  the 
 
 annihilation  of  sul    I  iid  Hume;  but  they  main- 
 
 tain the  hy  pothesis  of  a  common  substance  to  which 
 belong  equally   the  ]  tter  and    of  mind. 
 
 This  view  is  very   plain!}  h  as  the  one  which  is 
 
 maintained    by    Bain',  n  "Mind  and    Body,"   in 
 
 Appleton's  I]  Series.     He  says,  in 
 
 the  concludi  that  work: 
 
 The  a  .   now 
 
 entirely  lo  >nger  compatible  with  as- 
 
 certained  science  and   cl  ng.     The  one  substance,  with 
 
 two  cets  of  pre  two  sides,  the  physical  and  the  mental,  a 
 
 double-faced  unity,  would  appear  to  comply  with  all  the  exigencies 
 of  the  . 
 
 It  is  in  this  immediate  connection  that  we  must  lo- 
 cate the  philosophy  of  Herbert  Spencer.  As  in  the  case 
 of  others,  I  will  give  you  the  opportunity  to  judge  of 
 his  views  from  some  of  Ids  own  utterances,  carefully  and 
 fairly  selected.     lie  says  : 
 
 The  noumenon  everv  where  named  as   the  antithesis  of  the 
 
862  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 phenomenon,  is,  throughout,  necessarily  thought  of  as  an  actu- 
 ality. It  is  rigorously  impossible  to  conceive  that  our  knowledge 
 is  a  knowledge  of  appearances  only,  without  at  the  same  time  con- 
 ceiving a  reality  of  which  they  are  appearances;  for  appearance 
 without  reality  is  unthinkable. — First  Principles,  2d  ed.,  §  26. 
 
 We  come  down  then  finally  to  force  as  the  ultimate  of  ulti- 
 mates.  *  *  Matter  and  motion,  as  we  know  them,  are  differently 
 conditioned  manifestations  of  force. — Ibid.  §50. 
 
 Forces  standing  in  certain  relations,  form  the  whole  content  of 
 our  idea  of  matter. — Ibid.  C54S. 
 
 The  name  you  give  me  [materialist]  is  intended  to  imply  that 
 I  identify  mind  with  matter.  I  do  no  such  thing.  I  identify  mind 
 with  motion. — Psychology,  2d  edi.,  §  271. 
 
 Here  then  we  have  force,  in  Spencer's  own  and  un- 
 equivocal language,  as  ultimate  and  as  standing  in  com- 
 mon relation  to  matter  and  mind,  which  are  its  condi- 
 tioned manifestations;  force,  therefore,  is  the  noumenon 
 of  which  matter  and  mind  are  the  phenomena  and  this 
 force  is  with  Spencer  that  ultimate  reality  in  which  sub- 
 ject and  object  are  united. 
 
 And  this  brings  us,  he  continues,  to  the  true  conclusion  im- 
 plied throughout  the  foregoing  pages — the  conclusion  that  it  is  one 
 and  the  same  Ultimate  Reality  which  is  manifested  to  us  subjec- 
 tivelv  and  objectively.  For  while  the  nature  of  that  which  is 
 manifested  under  either  form  proves  to  be  inscrutable,  the  order  of 
 its  manifestations  throughout  all  mental  phenomena  proves  to  be 
 the  same  as  the  order  of  its  manifestations  throughout  all  material 
 phenomena. 
 
 The  law  of  Evolution  holds  of  the  inner  world  as  it  does  of 
 the  outer  world.  On  tracing  up  from  its  low  and  vague  begin- 
 nings the  intelligence  which  becomes  so  marvellous  in  the  highest 
 beings,  we  find  that  under  whatever  aspect  contemplated,  it  pre- 
 sents a  progressive  transformation  of  like  nature  with  the  pro- 
 gressive transformation  we  trace  in  the  Universe  as  a  whole,  no 
 less  than  in  each  of  its  parts. — Psy.  1,  £  273. 
 
 The  last  extract  which  will  be  brought  forward 
 is  the  closing  language  of  First  Principles: 
 
 Manifestly,  the  establishment  of  correlation  and  equivalence 
 between  the  forces  of  the  outer  and  the  inner  worlds,  may  be  used 
 to  assimilate  either  to  the  other;  according  as  we  set  out  with  one 
 or  other  term.  But  he  who  rightly  interprets  the  doctrine  con- 
 tained in  this  work,  will  see  that  neither  of  these  terms  can  be 
 taken  as  ultimate.  He  will  see  that  though  the  relation  of  subject 
 and  object  renders  necessary  to  us  these  antithecal  conceptions  of 
 Spirit  and  Matter;  the  one  is  no  less  than  the  other  to  be  regarded 
 as  '  sign  of  the  unknown  Reality  which  underlies  both. 
 
LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  363 
 
 You  see,  then,  that  matter  and  mind  are  with  Spen- 
 cer, the  two  Janus  faces  of  force;  his  hypothesis  is  some- 
 thing more  than  a  dynamical  view  of  the  material 
 world,  for  he  reduces  mental  phenomena  to  the  same 
 root. 
 
 There  is,  he  says,  a  fundamental  connection  between  ner- 
 vous changes  and  psychical  states. 
 
 You  think  of  me  as  seeing  no  essential  difference  between 
 mind  and  the  material  properties  of  brain.  As  well  might  I  think 
 of  vou  as  seeing  no  essential  difference  between  music  and  the 
 material  properties  of  the  piano  from  which  it  is  evoked.  *  *  * 
 As  the  motion  given  to  an  automatic  musical  instrument  passes 
 through  its  specialized  structure  and  comes  out  in  the  form  of  par- 
 ticular combinations  of  aerial  pulses,  simultaneous  and  successive; 
 so  the  motion  locked  up  in  a  man's  food,  added  to  that  directly  re- 
 cieved  through  his  senses,  is  transformed  while  passing  through 
 his  nervous  system  into  those  combinations  of  nervous  actions 
 which  on  their  subjective  faces  are  thoughts  and  feelings. 
 
 Thus,  impossible  as  it  is  to  get  immediate  proof  that  feeling  and 
 nervous  action  are  the  inner  and  outer  faces  of  the  same  change, 
 yet,  the  hypothesis  that  they  are  so,  harmonizes  with  all  the  ob- 
 served facts. — Psy.  i,  pp.  12S,  129,  621-22. 
 
 Bear  in  mind  that  force  is  ultimate,  that  it  is  "  that 
 reality  of  which  matter  and  mind  are  the  opposite  faces"; 
 the  phenomena  of  consciousness  and  of  matter,  "a  shock 
 in  consciousness  and  molecular  motion,  are  the  subjective 
 and  objective  phases  of  the  same  thing."  Certainly  suffi- 
 cient evidence  has  been  given,  to  justify  our  classification 
 of  this  philosophy.  Sometimes  a  classification  is  a  vir- 
 tual refutation. 
 
 Herbert  Spencer  is  the  recognised  philosopher  of 
 evolution  ;  he  is  the  queen  bee  of  the  development  hive 
 and  all  the  others,  as  Tyndall,  Hasckel,  Huxley  and  Dar- 
 win himself,  are  but  working  subordinates;  Darwin  is 
 his  great  pack-horse  naturalist  ;  Huxley,  his  ungloved 
 champion,  hitting  out  from  the  shoulder  miscellaneously; 
 Tyndall  and  Hasckel  and  others  are  hewers  of  wood  and 
 drawers  of  water,  whilst  a  numerous  group  of  youth 
 are  acting-  as  industrious    blowers  and  strikers.     But  the 
 
361  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 "great  philosopher,"  us  Mr.  Darwin  calls  him,  is  the 
 Vulcan  of  this  smithy  under  the  patronage  ol  the  gods, 
 superior  and  inferior,of  modern  science,wherein  mechan- 
 ical force  is  transmuted  into  breathing  forms  and  burn- 
 ing thoughts.  Oflate,  as  never  before,  his  claims  as  the 
 originator,  formulator  and  philosopher  of  the  revamped 
 development  hypothesis,  known  as  Darwinism,  are  ob- 
 truded on  the  public  as  quite  eclipsing  the  more  mod- 
 est and  meritorious  claims  of  Darwin  himself. 
 
 But  the  smokeof  battle  has  somewhat  cleared  away, 
 reason  has  become  calm  and  resumed  the  helm,  and  the 
 outlook  reveals  the  indisputable  fact  that  spontaneous 
 generation  and  the  missing  links  are  the  sylla  and 
 charybdis  between  which  no  divine  counsel  nor  guid- 
 ance has  enab  [  thi  Ulysses  to  steer  his  barque.  The 
 passage  lias  not    3  1    made;  and  the  philosophy  of 
 
 nescience  all  not  to  know  the  way  out  of  the 
 
 fog 
 
 The  world  usually  proves  to  be  discriminating  and 
 just,  and  our  age  will  no  doubt  be  looked  back  upon  by 
 the  future  as  having  aided  but  not  as  having  superceded 
 its  own  thinking.    Th<  all  al  >1  id  phal- 
 
 anx of  scholai  tnd  thinkers  in  America,  ready 
 
 to  accept  of  even  ibu  i  >n  to  science,  from  whatever 
 
 source,  but  capable  ol  and 
 
 opinions,  science  and  philosophy,  and  whose  minds  have 
 never  beei  be  .  lered  by  the  glamour  of  Mr.  Spencer'g 
 bold  pretensic  ch   men,  as  Henry  and  Guiot   and 
 
 Dana  and  Agassiz  and  Dawson,  never  gave  in  their  ad- 
 hesion; and  Joseph  Cook,  the  noted  Boston  Lecturer,  in 
 speaking,  1S77,  °^  Harvard,  used  this  language  : 
 
 There  i-;  a  I  ol   r   tl    ;r  small  philosophy  in   Cambridge 
 
 yonder,  among  a  few  young  men,  who,  very  unjustly  to  Harvard, 
 are  supposed  by  large  portions  of  the  public  to  represent  the  Uni- 
 versity.     I  happen   to  be  a  Harvard  man,  if  you  please,  and  ought  . 
 
LECTURE   OK   PBES.    IjAWS.  366 
 
 to  know  soi   ethi  my  al  aa  mater.     There  is  not  a  paving- 
 
 •tone  or  an  elm  tree  in  Cambridge  that  is  not  a  treasure  tome. 
 Who  does  represent  Harvard?  Hermann  Lotze  and  Frey  and  Beale 
 rather  than  Herbert  Spencer  and  Hseckel  are  the  authorities  which 
 the  strongest  men  a:  Cambridge  revere. 
 
 And  in  the  same  course  lie  thus  speaks  of  Lotze: 
 
 Hermann  Lotze,  now  commonly  regarded  as  the  greatest 
 philosopher  of  the  most  intellectual  of  the  nations,  and  who  has 
 left  his  mark  on  every  scholar  in  Germany  snider  forty  years  of 
 age,  is  every  where  renowned  for  hj  ;  '.  .;  gical  as  well  as  for 
 his  metaphysical  knowledge,  and  as  an  oppone  fc  of  the  mechani- 
 cal theory  of  life.  Hermann  Lotze  holds  that  the  unity  of  con- 
 sciousness is  a  fact  absolutely  incontrovertible  and  absolutely  inex- 
 plicable on  the  theory  of  Mr.  Spencer,  that  we  are  woven  by  a 
 complex  of  physical  arrangements  and  force  having  no  co< 
 ting  power  presiding  over  them  all. 
 
 And  he  also  says,  in  this  last  connection,  that  "there 
 is  not  in  Germany  to-day,  except  Haeckel,  a  single  pro- 
 fessor of  real  eminence  who  teaches  philosophical  ma- 
 terialism." 
 
 Yes  it  is  safe  to  notify  our  youth,  that  this  Spence- 
 rian  phase  of  unitarian  realism  has  culminated  and  is 
 now  waning;  and  that  the  task,  henceforth,  \vijl  be 
 to  justly  appreciate  and  profit  by  its  contributions  and  its 
 failure. 
 
 The  hypothesis  of  absolute  unitarian  realism  was 
 perhaps  never  more  simply  and  ingeniously  conceived 
 and  enunciated  than  by  Benedict  Spinoza,  a  Holland 
 Jew  (1632 — 1677,)  who  declined  salaried  and  honorable 
 appointments  and  preferred  to  subsist  by  his  own  manual 
 industry,  rather  than  by  implication  to  compromise  his 
 rjerfect  freedom  of  thought.  He  has  been  called  a  reason- 
 ing mill;  his  procedure  was  deductive  from  his  definition 
 of  substance,  as  "that  which  exists  inse  and  is  conceived 
 j>er  se"  i.  e.,  that  only  is  substance  which  is  self-existent 
 and  single.  Postulating  that  in  the  nature  ot  the  case 
 only  substance  and  its  qualities  or  modes  can  exist;  also, 
 that    only  things    of    the    same    kind    can    limit   each 
 
366  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 other:  then,  thought  and  extension  would  only  be  empty 
 abstractions,  unless  referred  as  attributes  to  the  self-exist- 
 ent substance  which,  by  virture  of  being  the  only  thing 
 of  its  kind,  is   unlimited  and,  hence,  infinite   and  eternal. 
 
 This  substantive  being,  then,  involves  as  attributes,  iniinite 
 thought  and  infinite  extension;  these  attributes  involve  an  infinite 
 number  of  finite  determinations,  and  these  determinations  consti- 
 tute the  phenomena!  world ;  those  of  the  infinite  thought  giving 
 rise  to  finite  minds,  those  of  the  infinite  extension  to  all  material 
 existences.  Hence  all  tilings  are  but  modes  of  the  attributes  of 
 this  infinite  Being. 
 
 The  philosophy  of  the  absolute,  convinced  that  mere  phenomu 
 ena  cannot  be  self-existent  realities,  begins  by  inquiring  after  the 
 principle  from  which  they  spring,  the  uniform  and  unchangeable 
 basis  which  underlies  all  changing  appearances.  This  philosophy 
 has  played  a  great  part  in  the  scientific  history  of  the  world.  It 
 formed  the  basis  of  the  ancient  speculations  of  the  Asiatic  world. 
 It  characterized  some  of  the  most  remarkable  phases  of  early 
 Greek  philosophy,  particularly  that  of  the  Eleatie  school  (600  B.C.), 
 founded  by  Xenophanes  the  monotheist,  but  his  monotheism  was 
 pantheism  Plato,  with  all  the  lofty  granduer  of  his  sublime 
 spirit,  sought  for  the  absolute  in  the  archetypes  existing  in  the  di- 
 vine mind.  The  Alexandrian  philosophers  proposed  to  them- 
 selves the  same  high  argument;  mingling  their  theories  with  the 
 mysticism  of  the  east,  and  even  calling  to  their  aid,  the  lights  of 
 the  Christian  revelation.  In  more  recent  times  Spinoza  gave  cur- 
 rency to  similar  investigations,  which  were  soon  moulded  into  a 
 stern  and  unflinching  system  of  pantheism ;  and  in  him  we  see  the 
 model  upon  which  the  modern  idealists  of  Germany  have  renew- 
 ed their  search  into  the  absolute  ground  of  all  phenomena.  The 
 very  first  requisite,  therefore,  in  understanding  the  rationale  of  the 
 German  philosophv  is  to  fix  the  eye  of  the  mind  on  the  notion  of 
 the  absolute,  and  thus  to  pass  mentally  beyond  the  bounds  of 
 changing,  finite,  conditioned  existence,  into  the  region  of  the  un- 
 changeable, the  infinite  the  unconditioned.  It  is,  in  fact,  in  the 
 various  methods  by  which  it  is  supposed  that  we  are  conducted  to 
 the  absolute,  whether  by  faith,  intuition  or  reason,  that  the  differ- 
 ent phases  of  the  German  metaphysics  have  arisen.— Morell's  Hist. 
 Mod.    Phil.  411. 
 
 Among  these  German  systems,  those  of  Schelling 
 and  Hegel  have  been  most  conspicuous  in  maintaining 
 "that  mind  and  matter  are  only  phenomenal  modifica- 
 tions of  the  same  common  substance." 
 
 2.  Dualistic  realism.  This  is  the  second  generic 
 form  of  realism,  according  to  the  analysis  and  enumera- 
 
LECTURE    OF     PRES.    LAWS.  367 
 
 tion  already  given.  The  views  under  this  head  are  also 
 diverse,  but  they  may  be  arranged  in  two  groups, — (i) 
 that  of  bastard  dualism,  and  (3)  that  of  legitimate  dual- 
 ism. That,  however,  which  is  characteristic  of  dual- 
 ism is  its  intuition  of  the  substantial  reality  of  both 
 mind  and  matter,  as  coexistent  and  distinct  substances, 
 each  having  its  own  attributes  and  laws  of  subsistence 
 and  operation.  The  oriental  dualism  of  Zoroaster,  which 
 invaded  the  thought  of  Europe  at  the  time  of  the  transi- 
 tion from  the  old  to  the  new  civilization,  has  no  signifi- 
 cance in  this  special  connection,  however  curious,  import- 
 ant and  indispensable  it  may  be  in  the  appreciation  of 
 the  ethical,  religious  and  speculative  opinions  of  the 
 early  centuries  of  our  era. 
 
 (1.)  The  three  forms  of  spurious  dualistic  realism 
 which  may  be  now  noticed  are  represented  by  Descartes, 
 Leibnitz  and  Brown. 
 
 Descartes  (1596-1650)  was  a  Frenchman  and  ex- 
 cogitated his  peculiar  system  of  philosophy  whilst  on 
 duty  as  a  soldier.  His  mathematical  genius  placed  un- 
 der obligation  all  succeeding  generations;  but  by  striking 
 out  a  new  method  in  philosophy,  he  associated  his  name 
 with  that  of  Socrates  and  became  the  father  of  out- 
 modern  philosophy.  His  system  lives  only  as  a  curios- 
 ity, but  his  method  of  appealing  directly  to  conscious- 
 ness as  affording  an  impregnable  base  of  operations,  sur- 
 vives and  is  not  destined  to  perish. 
 
 In  regard  to  the  substantial  objects  of  existence, 
 Descartes  recognized  one  self-existent  and  self-sufficient 
 substance,  God,  and  then  matter  and  mind  as  derived 
 and  dependent,  or  created  substances.  These  substantial 
 entities  we  could  not  know  except  by  virtue  of  their 
 possession  of  attributes;  each  substance  has  its  chief 
 property,   which  constitutes    its  nature   and  essence,   and 
 
358  '     "  .  V    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 to  which  ..;    |  .  oth  :  referred.     E:  tension  in 
 
 length,  breadth  and  depth,  nature  of  cor- 
 
 poreal substance,  and  tho  tutes   th    nature  of 
 
 thinking  subsl  in  Ever    oth   r  ;  which  can  beat- 
 
 tributed  to  b  .     ision  and  is  only  some 
 
 mode  of  an  <  ded  thing;    as   also   the  things  which 
 
 we  find  in  the      '  only  di  pei      .  >  »des  of  thinking. 
 
 And  ;  have  two  I  d    I  cnt  notions 
 
 or  i.!  of  a  thii  -,  •       ther  of  a  cor- 
 
 poreal sul  ,  pro  accurately  distinguish  all 
 
 the   attril  >m   th       ttril    ites  oi   exten- 
 
 sion.    (Principia,  i,  li-liv.) 
 
 Thi  i  own  la        age;  and  we        I  at  the 
 
 t  of  his  s  '        '  that   mind  and   matter, 
 
 whose    %•  stitul  :d  of  thought  :tnd   ex- 
 
 tension, whilst   coexist  >st   intimately    related, 
 
 yet  lik  o  not  influence 
 
 land  was  made  the  seat  of  th 
 soul,  but  f  body  and  soul  i       .       f  non  in- 
 
 tercourse.     This  ■  ■'.     triking  do      le  coi     ast  to 
 
 ;       two  opposite  extremes — that  of  <    nversion 
 
 of  food  into  ■  id  that  oi     tcrkely's  <      iversion  of 
 
 all  corporeal  thi  '      leas    n        eats  and 
 
 wear  nee    of 
 
 awA  I  by  the  icy  of 
 
 as  each  furnisl  .-'  ;  or,  as  her  d 
 
 it:     "It  is  God  himsell        10  by       law    which  he 
 I  I,  when  movements  are  determined  in  the 
 
 produces  anal  s   modifications'  in  the  conseios  ■  mi 
 
 In  like  manner,  suppose  the  ;   .  volition  to  move 
 
 the  arm;  this  volition  is,  of  itself  inefficacious,  but  God 
 in  virtue  of  tl  ■  law,  causes  the  ering  motion 
 
 in  our  limb.     The  organic  changes,  and  the  mental  mod- 
 ifications, are  nothing  but  simple  conditions  and  are  not 
 
LKCTURK    OF    PKES,    LAWS.  369 
 
 real    causes;  in   short    they   are   occasions    or    occasional 
 causes." 
 
 Leibnitz  (1646-1716)  was  a  German  of  amazing  ver- 
 satility, originality,  breadth  and  depth  of  intellect.  His 
 brilliant  speculation  as  to  the  constitution  of  mind  and 
 matter  is  known  as  the  system  of  preestablished  har- 
 mony, and  was  occasioned  apparently  by  the  system  of 
 Descartes.  He  teaches,  in  his  system,  that  compound 
 bodies  are  made  up  of  monads  which  are  the  ultimate 
 elements,  the  dynamical  atoms;  that  each  soul  is  a 
 monad  and  each  monad  is  a  miniature  universe,  having 
 its  inherent  or  immanent  qualities  and  its  sphere  and 
 series  of  allotted  activities.  Matter  and  mind  thus  con- 
 stituted were,  at  the  beginning,  wound  up  like  two 
 clocks,  to  run  forever  in  perfect  harmony.  All  the  con- 
 ting-  iv  the  universe  were  anticipated  and  provided 
 for  by  its  great  author,  and  the  involution  of  energy  and 
 intelligence  was  made  equal  to  the  possible  evolution. 
 The  tact  is,  Leibnitz  so  far  anticipated  Spencer  and 
 Darwin  in  some  fundamental  features  of  their  specula- 
 tions, that  it  has  attracted  some  attention.  According  to 
 this  system  : 
 
 God  created  the  soul  at  first  in  Mich  manner  that  it  under- 
 stands and  represents  to  itself  in  corresponding  order  whatever 
 passes  in  the  body;  and  the  body  also,  in  such  a  manner  that  it: 
 must  do  of  itself  whatever  the  soul  requires.  Between  the  two 
 substances  which  constitute  this  man,  there  would  subsist  the 
 most  perfect  harmony,  ft  is  thus,  no  longer  necessary  to  devise 
 theories  to  account  for  the  reciprocal  intercourse  of  the  material 
 and  spiritual  substances.  These  have  no  communication,  no  re- 
 ciprocal influence.  The  soul  passes  from  one  state,  from  one  per- 
 ception to  another  by  virtue  of  its  own  nature.  The  body  exe- 
 cutes the  series  of  its  movements  without  any  participation  or  in- 
 terference of  tbe  soul  therein.     (Opera,  ed.  Erd.,  520,  a,et  al.) 
 
 Again  he  says: 
 
 f  will  not  make  a  difficulty  of  saying  that  the  soul  moves  the 
 body:  even  as  a  Copernican  speaks  truly  of  the  rising  of  the  sun, 
 a  Platonist  of  the  reality  of  matter,  a  Cartesian  of  the  reality  of 
 sensible  qualifies,  provided  one   understands   them  judiciously      T 
 
370  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 believe,  in  like  manner,  thai    it  is  very  true  to  sa\   thai  si    istan 
 act  the  one  upon  the  other,  provided   it  '.    understood  that  the  one 
 is  a  cause  of  the  changes  in  the  oth<  r   :  i  consequence  of  the  laws 
 of  their  preestablished  harmony.     fErd.,  1:32,  a.) 
 
 That  is,  it  is  proper  to  use  this  language  of  ordinary 
 life,  provided  you  understand  by  it  something-  entirely 
 different  from  what  is  ordinarily  understood  by  it,  for 
 body  and  soul,  according  to  Leibnitz,  have  really  less  in- 
 fluence on  each  other  than  two  separate  clocks  vibrating 
 near  each  other.  The  feeling  of  joy  in  the  heart  and 
 the  smile  on  the  face,  fear  and  palor,  all  corresponding 
 bodily  and  mental  states,  are,  according  to  this  view, 
 mere  coincidences.  I  will  translate  for  you  another  of 
 his  own  brief  expositions  of  his  peculiar  system,  given  in 
 a  letter  just  twenty  years  before  his  death  and  six  years 
 subsequent  to  his  firsl  formal  disclo  liis  system   to 
 
 Arnauld : 
 
 You  say  that  you  do  not   understand  hoi  |   be  able  to 
 
 prove  what  I  have  advanced  touching  the  communication  or  har- 
 mony of  two  substances  so  different  as  the  soul  and  body.  I 
 truly  believe  that  I  have  found  the  means  ol  doing  so:  and 
 behold  how  I  undertake  to  satisfy  you. 
 
 Figure  to   yourself  two  clocks   which  pi  Now 
 
 that  can  be  effected  in  three  \va\  s.  The  first  consists  in  a  mutual 
 influence;  the  second  is  by  assigning  to  them  a  skillful  workman 
 who  may  regulate  them  and  put  them  in  accord  at  every  moment; 
 the  third  is  to  make  the  two  pendulums  with  so  much  art  and 
 exactness  that  one  may  be  assured  of  their  agreement  everafter. 
 Put,  now,  the  soul  and  the  body  in  the  place  of  these  two  pendu- 
 lums; their  agreement  can  occur  in  one  of  these  three  ways. 
 (i)  The  way  of  influence  is  that  of  the  vulgar  philosophy,  but  as 
 one  could  not  conceive  of  material  particles  which  can  pass  from 
 one  of  these  substances  into  the  other,  it  is  necessary  to  abandon 
 this  belief.  (2)  The  way  of  the  continual  assistance  of  the  Creator 
 is  that  of  the  system  of  occasional  causes;  but  I  hold  that  this  is 
 to  make  intervene  a  "Dens  ex  machina" — an  artificial  stage  god- 
 in  a  thing  natural  and  ordidary,  where,  according  i<>  reason,  Cod 
 ought  to  co-operate  only  in  the  manner  that  He  concurs  in  all 
 other  things  natural.  (3)  Thus  there  rem  u'ns  only  my  hypothesis, 
 that  is  to  say,  the  way  ol  harmony.  God  made,  at  the  beginning, 
 each  of  these  two  substances  with  such  a  nature  that  by  following 
 only  its  own  proper  laws,  which  it  has  received  with  its  being,  it 
 accords  in  every  respect  with  the  other  just  as  if  there  was  a 
 mutual    influence  or  as   if  God  continually  extended   to  them  an 
 
LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  373 
 
 influence  beyond   his  general  concurrence.     Consequently,  1  have 
 no  need   of   proving    anything,  some  one    require    thai    I 
 
 p       .    that  God  is  sufficiently  I  •  ■  i  iploj  this     p  i  ■•.■•  nient 
 
 artifice  of  which,    we  bee  some   spai        even  a  ■        Now, 
 
 granting  its  possibility,  you  see   thai    this   [third]   wav   is   the  most 
 beautiful  and  the  mosl  wo  I  im. 
 
 You  have  suspected  thai  :n\  explicati  »n    ■    u    lb     o|      iscd  I 
 the  idea  so  different  which   you   have  of  spirit  and   bodj  :  bul    voii 
 see  in  an  instant  that  no  one  etter  estab)        d   tl      .1  ide 
 
 pendence.     For  as  long  as  obliged   to  <        lin  1)    :    conf 
 
 munication  as  miraculous,   occasion  lias  alwaj     been  give 
 man)  people  to  fear  that  the  distinction   between   soul  and  body 
 might  not  be  as  real  as  supposed,  since   the.supporl        ;     i      o  far 
 fetched.     I    will   not  he  displeased  at   your  sounding  p  rsons  oi 
 ction  upon  the  thoughts  which  I  have  ii;  '         I   ii  cd  to  von. 
 —(Ibid,  xxv.) 
 
 It  should  be  observed  that  Descartes  is  no!  himself 
 wholly  responsible  Ibr  what  is  here  criticised  as  the  Car- 
 tesian doctrine  of  assistance  or  occasional  causes,  as  Male- 
 branche  and  others  endeavored  by  this  shift  to  bring  into 
 consistency  such  of  his  views  as  that  of  animal  ■  organ - 
 3  being  soulless  machines  and  of  providence  being  a 
 ■  inual  creation  :  la  conservation  et  la  creation  ne  differ- 
 ent qti'au  regard  de  notre  faSon  dc  pcnsa\  et  non  ,  , 
 en  effet.  (Descartes'' Oeuvres,  ed  Simon,  p.  93.)  Thej 
 judged  that  we  experience  sensations  because  God  causes 
 them  to  arise  in  the  soul,  on  the  occasion  of  the  movem- 
 ents of  matter,  and  when,  in  its  'urn,  the  soul  wills  to- 
 move  the  body,  that  it  is  God  who  moves  the  body  for 
 it.  l.i  like  manner,  the  movements  among  bodies  them- 
 selves is  effected  by  God  moving  out  bod)  on  occasion.  ■ 
 of  the  movement  of  another  body.  (Erd.  127.)  Des- 
 carte's  own  view  that  the  soul  exercised  a  directive  influ- 
 ence over  the  body  and  was  susceptible  of  the  action  of 
 the  animal  spirits  (Les  Pass.,  pt.  1,  §  34)  was  lost  sight  oi 
 by  his  followers;  and  vet  Leibnitz:  repetitiously  appeals 
 to  his  mathematics,  in  which  he  was  the  compeer  of 
 Newton  and  of  Descartes,  to  prove  the  paralogism 
 that  the    quantity     of  direction     is  as   fixed     in  the   un- 
 
.°>72  DK1VEKSITY    OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 iverse  as  that  of  moving  force,  so  that  bodies  must 
 be  just  as  independent  of  the  soul  in  their  direction 
 as     in     the     quantity     of    their     moving   force;  and     he 
 
 even  goes  so  far  as  to  express  the  opinion  that  if 
 Descartes  had  known  of  this,  as  he  terms  it,  new  law 
 of  nature  a-  t.<>  direction,  he  would  have  been  led  to 
 the  discover}-  of"  the  system  of  pre-established  harmony. 
 By  the  modified  Cartesian  system,  all  efficienc}  was  ab- 
 stracted from  both  mind  and  matter  and  the  only  efficient 
 operative  energy  was  that  of  (hid,  who  so  timed  and 
 regulated  liis  action  in  the  lines  of  material  and  of  men- 
 tal phenomena  that  they  as  perfectly  accorded  as  if  each, 
 by  its  own  susceptibility,  responded  to  the  efficiency  of 
 the  other.  Whereas,  in  the  system  of  Leibnitz,  this 
 responsiveness  or  accordance  was  equalhj  perfect  but  it 
 was  by  virtue,  no1  of  any  present  influence  of  (rod  on 
 either  mind  or  matter,  nor  of  any  influence  of  either  on 
 ■the  other,  but  wholly  on  account  of  the  original  consti- 
 tution and  stove  of  energy  lodged  in  mind  and  matter  at 
 their  creation.  He  frequentl}7  objects  to  the  Cartesian 
 system  that  it  makes  God  a  sort  of  stage  convenience,  for 
 the  denouement  of  the  piece  by  moving  the  hod}',  ;is 
 the  soul  wills,  ami  giving  peceptions  to  the  soul,  as 
 the  body  requires;  and  that  thus,  in  a  most  unphilo- 
 sophic  manner,  a  perpetual  miracle  is  performed  in 
 maintaining  the  ostensible  intercourse  of  these  two  sub- 
 stances. However  untenable  the  Cartesian  system  itself 
 may  be,  I  must  he  allowed  to  quote  with  approval  the  apt 
 reply  of  Bayle,  in  the  article  of  his  Dictionary  on  Rorari- 
 us,  that,  nothing  can  properly  be  called  a  miracle  which 
 is  brought  about  as  an  instance  of  an  established  method 
 ■of  procedure,  i.  e.,  according  to  law.  He  says:  "The 
 system  of  occasional  causes  does  not  bring  in  (rod  act- 
 ing miraculously.     1   am   as  much    persuaded  as   ever    I 
 
LECTURE    OK    PRES.   LAWS.  37S 
 
 was,"  he  continues,  "that  an  action  cannot  be  said  to 
 be  miraculous,  unless  God  produces  it  as  an  exception  to 
 general  laws;  and  that  everything  of  which  he  is  im- 
 mediately the  author  according  to  those  laws,  is  dis- 
 tinct from  a  miracle  properly  so  called": — i.  e.,  as  it  was 
 esteemed  by  theCartesian,  God's  ordinary  in  ode  of  oper- 
 tion  could  not  in  whole  nor  in  part  be  properly  termed 
 miraculous.  I  will  add  that  those  who  speak  of  the 
 miracle  of  creation,  talk  wildly,  for  a  creation  is  not  a 
 miracle:  a  miracle  implies,  first,  an  established  order  of 
 nature,  whereas  creation,  if  it  mean  anything,  does  not 
 presuppose  but  initiates  that  order;  and  second,  a 
 miracle  implies  a  departure  from  or  interruption  of  the 
 order  of  nature,  whereas,  in  creation,  there  is  not  yel  any 
 order  to  be.  interrupted.  Hence,  to  talk  of  the  miracle  of 
 creation  is  to  talk  nonsense,—]  mean  that  it  is  to  use  lan- 
 guage to  which  no  intelligible  meaning  can  possibly  at- 
 tach, because  of  the  contusion  of  thought  necessarily  im- 
 plied. TJie  fact  is,  for  precisely  opposite  reasons,  no 
 such  thing  as  a  miracle  was  possible  upon  the  hypoth- 
 esis of  either  Descartes  or  Leibnitz. 
 
 To  the  objection  urged  against  his  own  system,  that 
 it  was  an  extraordinary  affair  and  had  too  little  of  God, 
 whilst  he  charged  that  Cartesianism  had  too  much  of 
 God,  Leibnitz  made  answer: 
 
 jii  the  supernatural  only  at  the  beginning,  at  the 
 first  formation  of  things;  after  that,  the  formation  of  animals  and 
 the  relation  between  soul  and  body,  are  a.-  natural  us  the  most 
 ordinary  op  rations  of  nature.     (Opera,  edit.  Erd.,  p.  476,  a.) 
 
 The  only  question,  in  his  view,  was  as  to  the  com- 
 petence an»i  wisdom  of  God  in  so  constituting  the  ele- 
 ments or  monads  of  the  univcv.se  with  dynamic  powers, 
 with  immanent  attributes,  as  to  place  the  resources  of 
 Dei  no   farther  requisition.     If  js  easy  to  see, 
 
 under  the  Cartesian   win.;  of  these  speculations, the  egg 
 
374  U  N  I VERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 of  Pantheism,  and  under  the  Leibnitzian  wing,  the  egg 
 of  Atheism,  both  of  which  were  hatched  subsequently. 
 As  a  matter  of  fact,  Spinoza,  stopping  short  with  Des- 
 cartes' definition  of  substance  as  :i  being  self  existent  and 
 self  sufficient,  rejected  his  qualifications  respecting 
 created  substances  and  left  God  done  as  the  sole  existent 
 and  efficient  substance;  and  Leibnitz,  to  escape  this  con- 
 sequence of  the  obliteration  of  the  inherent  efficiency  " 
 of  second  causes,  grandly  assumed  that  God  made  the 
 universe  at  its  creation  the  depository  of  immanent: 
 power,  wisdom  and  all  attributes  adequate  to  all  its 
 necessities  and  contingencies,  as  it  should  ever  after  flow 
 outward  and  onward  in  the  commingling  but  entirely 
 distinct  and  perfectly  accordant  streams  of  physical  and 
 psychical  life,— thus  removing  God  so  far  from  view  as 
 to  be  forgotten,  and  investing  the  universe  with  so 
 much  of  God  as  to  be  substituted  by  evolutionism  in  his 
 place.  Pantheism  has  always  amounted  to  the  denial  of 
 any  efficient  finite  substance;  and  Atheism,  to  the 
 denial,  or  removal  out  of  view  and  recognition,  of  any 
 efficient  infinite  substance;  but  these  extremes  meet  in 
 Atheism,  for  if  all  thing's  are  God  there  certainly  is  no 
 Ood.  This,  however,  is  an  anticipation  of  theistic  rea- 
 lism. 
 
 Leibnitz's  own  estimate  of  his  system  of  dualistic 
 realism,  in  which  mind  and  matter  stand  so  peculiarly 
 correlated,  is  characteristic  and  points  a  moral  of  value 
 to  even  the  most  gifted.  From  being  a  Cartesian  (Erd. 
 p.  48,)  and  then  leaning  to  the  pantheistic  views  of 
 Spinoza  (p.  206),  an  article  in  Bayle's  Dictionary  on 
 Rorarius  seems  I"  have  aided  in  causing  a  recoil  which 
 carried  I.eiimitz  back  through  the  camp  of  the  Carte- 
 sians into  the  paradise  of  his  newly  discovered  pre-es- 
 tablished harmony.     Thenceforth  he  assumed   the  sobri- 
 
OECTURK    OF    PRKS.    LAWS.  375 
 
 quet  <»i  Theophilus,  the  friend  of.  God  instead  of 
 Spinqzan  Atheist,  and  from  his  new  standpoint,  he 
 looked  down  on  all  other  and,  as  he  esteemed  them,  in- 
 ferior systems  with  an  air  of  supreme  satisfaction  and 
 •complacent  triumph,  indicated  in  the  following  passage 
 in  dialogue  from  the  first  chapter  of  his  elaborate  criti- ' 
 cism  of  Locke's  "Essay  on  Human  Understanding:" 
 
 (  must  tell  you  as  news,''  he  says  in  the  character  of  one  of 
 the  interlocutors,  "that  I   am  no  long  artesian,  and    that    1 
 
 am  farther  than  ever  removed  from  your  Gassendi.  I  have  been 
 Struck  with  a  new  system  which  puts  a  new  face  on  the  interior 
 of  things.  This  system  seems  to  alty  Pjato  with  Democritusj 
 Aristotle  with  Desc  irtes,  ichol  istics  with  the    Modi  rns,  The- 
 
 ology and  Ethics  with  reason.  It  seems  to  take  the  best  from  all 
 sides  and  to  go  far  beyond  what  has  been  hitherto  attained.  1 
 find  here  .an  intelligible  explanation  of  the  union  of  soul  and  body, 
 a  thing  of  which  I  had  previously  despaired.  *  *  *  I  see  now 
 what  Plato  meant  when  he  took  matter  for  an  imperfect  and 
 transitory  existence;  what  Aristotle  understood  by  his  entelechy; 
 what  is  the  promise  of  another  life,  which,  according  to  Pliny, 
 Democritus  himself  was  accustomed  to  make;  how  far  the 
 Sceptics  were  reasonable  in  declaiming  against  the  authority  of 
 the  senses;  how  animals  are  antomatons  according  to  Descarte» 
 and  yet  have  souls  and  sentiment  according  to  popular  opinion; 
 how  various  others  with  a  show  of  reason  attributed  life  and  per- 
 ception to  all  things;  how  the  laws  of  nature,  of  which  a  good 
 part  were  unknown  before  the  birth  of  this  system,  take  their 
 origin  from  principles  superior  to  matter,  although  indeed  all 
 matter  acts  mechanically,  wherein  the  spiritualising  authors, 
 whom  I  have  just  named,  had  blundered  even  as  the  Cartesians 
 by  supposing  that  immaterial  substances  change  if  not  the  force  at; 
 least  the  direction  or  determination  of  material  bodies;  whereas, 
 according  to  the  new  system,  the  soul  and  the  body  perfectly  ob- 
 serve their  laws,  each  its  own,  and  yet  each  obeys  the  other  so 
 far  forth  as  is  necessary. 
 
 And  thus  he  proceeds  beyond  the  limits  ot  our  fol- 
 lowing him,  to  pour  forth  the  diverse  reasons  for  his  en- 
 raptured exultation  over  a  system,  which  seemed  to  him 
 to  gather  all  that  was  valuable  out  of  all  other  systems 
 of  all  th<  ages,  to  escape  their  errors  and  to  clothe  the 
 universe  and  its  supremely  exalted  Creator  in  the  glori- 
 ous garments  of  the  sunlight  of  truth  itself.  To  our 
 awakened  view,  this  gorgeous  speculation  of  two  centu- 
 
376  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 ries  ago,  is  like  the  vision  of  a  brain  intoxicated  with 
 hashish.  It  was  only  a  mirage!  which  did  not  satisfy 
 hut  only  mocked  the  soul  athirst  for  truth. 
 
 The  third  phase  of  spurious  dualistic  realism  can 
 only  be  conventionally  represented  by  Brown,  or  by  any 
 .other  individual  name;  his  name  was  suggested  as  rep- 
 resentative, mainly  because  it  has  been  made  to  bear  the 
 brunt  of  the  most  terrible  onslaught  ever  made  upon 
 this  philosophic  hypothesis,  which  holds  that,  whilst  the 
 mind  is  intuitively  apprised  of  its  own  existence,  it  has 
 no  such  intuition  of  an  external  reality  nor  of  aught 
 outside  of  or  other  than  the  mind  itself  and  its  modifica- 
 tions; but  at  the  same  time,  as  a  matter  of  unfaltering 
 faith,  it  holds  to  the  reality  of  matter  and  of  an  external 
 world.  We  know  self,  but  only  believe  in  not  self.  This 
 is  a  hybrid  dualism.  From  Empedocles,  500  B.  C,  down- 
 ward, the  vicious  axiom  has  been  widely  accepted  that 
 like  is  only  known  by  like  —that  the  object  known  must 
 be  of  a  nature  like  that  of  the  knowing  mind.  Hence, 
 cither  a  mental  modification  has  been  taken  as  the  sym- 
 bol of  the  outlying  externa!  reality  supposed  to  exist  in 
 answer  to  it,  or  else  some  refined  species  or  filmy,  un- 
 substantial, natural  or  supernatural  tcrtium  quid,  has 
 been  installed  as  mediating  between  the  knowing  mind 
 and  the  external  world — between  the  ego  and  the  ex- 
 ternal no)i    ego,  between  mind  and    matter. 
 
 This  acceptance  of  mind  as  certainly  existing  he- 
 cause  known  intuitively,  and  of  matter  as  only  suppposed 
 or  conjectured  to  he  as  the  suitable  explanation  of  a 
 knowledge  we  may  have  of  something  other  than  itself,, 
 which  represents  it(or  suggests  it  to  the  knowing  mind,, 
 places  matter  on  a  different  footing  from  mind,  by  ex- 
 cluding it  from  the  pale  of  intuition  or  immediate  knowl- 
 edge, and  hence,  as  tested  by  the  standard    of  legitimacy 
 
LECTURE    OF    I'RES.    LAWS.  377 
 
 which  requires  matter  and  mind  to  be  on  the  .same  foot- 
 ing', matter  is  on  this  view  acknowledged  only  as  a 
 bastard  reality.  By  whatever  shading,  subtlety  or  re- 
 finement, matter  and  mind  are  denied  an  equally  legiti- 
 mate recognition  as  equally  objects  of  immediate  knowl- 
 edge,all  thus  holding  should,  in  the  view  which  presides 
 over  the  present  discussion,  be  set  down  here  as  spurious 
 dualistic  realists.  To  this  group  many  Platonists  :md  a 
 host  of  philosophers  of  different  ages  belong. 
 
 (2).  Legitimate  Dualistic  realism,  [i  was  stated  at 
 the  opening  of  the  Foregoing  review  of  speculative  hy- 
 potheses, that  the  hypothesis  esteemed  capable  of  vindica- 
 tion and  hence  legitimate  and  true,  would  be  reserved 
 •to  the  last.  The  point  is  now  reached  where  that  ordeal 
 must  be  passed. 
 
 The  one  point  to  be  maintained  is  that  matter 
 and  mind,  phenomenally  and  substantially,  are  both 
 equally  objects  of  immediate  knowledge;  that  neither 
 rests  on  inference,  and  that  each  as  known  has  as  good  a 
 title  to  recognized  reality  as  the  other.  They  are  twin 
 sisters  in  the  family  of  knowledge,  without  either  having 
 the  advantage  oyer  the  other  of  a  superior  claim  to 
 legitimacy  or  to  the  right  of  primogeniture. 
 
 Properly  understood,  it  would  seem  that  nothing 
 could  be  more  simple  than  the  case  before  us.  All  the 
 conditions  of  the  problem  are  in  the  possession  of  every 
 human  being,  so  thai  there  is  no  occasion  to  compass  sea 
 and  land  to  gather  the  materials  or  to  qualify  one  for  an 
 appreciation  of  its  solution.  It  has  too  generally  escaped 
 attention,  that  metaphysics  is  not  genetic  but  cxegetie. 
 Its  business  i^  not  the  creation  of  something  new,  hut  the 
 faithful  interpretation  of  what  already  exists.  And  as. 
 the  question  before  u^  is  not  primarily  one  of  logic  but 
 
378  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 of  exposition,  or  interpretation,  our  appeal    must   be  di- 
 rected  to  each  one's  own  common  sense. 
 
 A  simple  concrete  case,  comprehensive  of  all  the 
 issues  in  question,  will  first  be  submitted  in  its  spontane- 
 ous and  simple  form,  wherein  will  appear  only  the  com- 
 mon ground  on  which  all  stand;  and  then  the  abstract 
 formulation  of  its  supposed  contents,  where  divergencies 
 arise,  will  receive  attention. 
 
 I  am  seated  on  a  chair,  with  my  arm  resting  on  a 
 table, pencil  in  hand,  writing  on  a  pad;  my  fe&t  are  cross- 
 ed and  resting  on  the  floor.  In  this  situation,  without 
 the  slightest  volition,  my  body,  at  several  widely  separa- 
 ted points,  is  in  contact  with  surrounding  objects  which  I 
 immediately  ascertain  to  be  no  part  of  my  body,  by 
 rising  and  stepping  away  from  them.  Then,  I  resume* 
 my  position  as  described  and  find  myself  experiencing 
 again,  the  same  firm  support  of  and  resistence  to  differ- 
 ent parts  of  my  person.  There  is  here,  in  the  main,  no 
 exertion  of  will;  and  yet  the  contacts  with  the  chair  and 
 floor  and  table  are  sensibly  felt.  All  this  occurs  when 
 the  bod}  is  in  a  relaxed,  wearied  and  passive  condition, 
 and  when  there  is  no  resistance  of  any  voluntary  effort, 
 no  arrest  of  any  muscular  exertion.  The  force  exerted 
 is  wholly  physical  and  vel  I  have  an  experience,  a  con- 
 sciousness, of  contacts  and  pressure  and  resistance,  of  an 
 arrest  of  a  tendency  of  the  body  to  descend,  toward  or 
 below  the  floor,  independently  of  any  voluntary  or  con- 
 scious exertion  by  me  of  any  energy.  All  this  is  a  most 
 palpabic  and  matter  of  course  knowledge  of  a  simple 
 state  of  fact,  which  is  so  natural  and  unconstrained  that 
 it  would  quite  escape  notice,  were  not  attention  deliber- 
 ately fixed  upon  it.  This  knowledge  is  immediate  and 
 not  the  result  of  any  process  of  inference  or  reasoning — I 
 alight   on   it    by    simple    introspection.      It  is  a    matter  of 
 
LECTURE   OF   PRES.    LAWS.  379 
 
 observation,  and  observation  is  a  listening  to  nature, 
 whereas  experiment  is  a  catechising  of  nature. 
 
 Undoubtedly,  here  is  knowledge,  a  common  sense 
 knowledge,  such  as  even  human  being  lias  daily  of 
 himself  and  of  something  not  himself.  There  is  no 
 conjecture  nor  speculation  about  it.  It  is  plain  matter 
 of  fact,  which  no  one  questions,  nor  can  question,  any 
 ■  more  than   he  can   question   his  own   existence. 
 
 Now,  what  is  contained  in  this  concrete  state  of 
 tact?  This  is  a  proper  inquiry  and  our  exegesis  or  ex- 
 planation of  this  state  of  fact,  mu^t  furnish  ibu  ajjsw.er 
 which  we  seek.  The  knowledge  we  have  of  these  con- 
 tacts, pressure  and  resistance  as  described,  is  sense-percep- 
 tion. This  knowledge  by  perception,  as  we  have  seen,  is 
 not  a  matter  of  inference  or  reasoning,  but  an  immediate 
 or  conscious  knowledge  of  the  states  or  affections  of  my 
 physical  organism,  due  to  its  contact  with  surrounding 
 bodies  with  whose  existence,  so  far  forth  as  in 
 immediate  contact  therewith,  f  am  thereby  made  ac- 
 quainted. If  this  contact  be  changed,  the  feeling  or 
 sensation  alters  correspondingly.  In  the  case  given,  the 
 feeling  or  perception  exists  only  to  the  extent  of  actual 
 contacts.  If  I  rise  and  stand  on  my  feet,  free  from  con- 
 tact with  surrounding  objects,  except  the  floor,  the  feel- 
 ing or  perception  of  pressure  is  limited  to  the  feet  which 
 alone  are  affected  by  the  actual  pressure  from  supporting 
 (he  weight  of  the  bod}-.  If  one  foot  be  raised,  th<?  sen- 
 sation'is  then  confined  to  the  foot  that  remains  in  actual 
 contact  with  the  supporting  body.  If  I  again  resume 
 my  position,  in  my  seat  by  my  writing  desk,  as  at  first 
 described,  the  contacts  are  again  felt  as  already  described 
 at  several  points,  and  over  varying  extents  of  surface, 
 and  separated  from  each  other.  This  experience  of  a 
 separation    or    relative    outness  of  these    affections    and 
 
980 
 
 UNIVKKSITV    OK   MISSOURI. 
 
 affected  parts  should  be  particularly  noted,  as  an  instance 
 of  the  direct  cognition  of  an  extended  body,  an  experience 
 of  concrete  extension.  Moreover,  the  affections  of  these 
 different  parts  are  known  at  the  same  time  and  not  suc- 
 cessively. Reflect  on  this  and  see  it  the  knowledge  of  the 
 changed  condition  of  the  different  parts  affected  is  not 
 taken  in  at  once,  and  that  no  account  whatever  is  taken 
 of  their  nearness  to  or  remoteness  from  the  head.  If, 
 now,  the  will  is  brought  into  action  on  some  part  of  the 
 body,  we  have  a  like  result  as  to  the  location  and  imme- 
 diacy#of  the  consequent  affection  of  the  part.  Suppose 
 attention  he  turned  on  the  writing  and  the  fingers  are 
 made  to  squeeze  the  pencil  more  tightly  and  then  to 
 relax, — the  resistance  to  the  muscular  exertion  is  known 
 by  us,  or  perceived  only  where  and  when  it  occurs  in  fact, 
 viz.,  at  the  ends  of  the  fingers  holding  the  pencil  and  at 
 the  very  time  of  the  volition.  Mow,  join  with  me  in 
 the  experiment  and  press  your  big  toe  against  the  door. 
 Are  you  not  conscious  of  the  resistance  at  the  time  and 
 place  of  its  Occurrence?  Repetition  does  not  vary  the 
 result,  and  it  cannot  he  denied  that  our  knowledge  of 
 the  resistance  seems  to  lie  located  in  the  toe  just  where 
 and  when  it  occurs.  Jf  this  experiment  he  again  varied 
 and  the  contact  with  different  parts  of  the  body,  as 
 actual  experiment  has  shown,  be  effected  by  a  movement 
 from  without  inward,  instead  of  from  within  outward, 
 the  result  is  found  to  he  identically  the  same,  as  the  im- 
 pressions made  simultaneously  on  different  parts  of  the 
 bodily  organism,  it  proper  care  he  taken  as  to  their 
 relative  sensibility,  are  felt  instantaneously  and  simultane- 
 ously, and  not  successively  at  intervals  corresponding  to 
 the  relative  distances  of  the  parts  affected  from  the  head 
 or  any  other  imagined  seat  of  sensation  within  the 
 organism. 
 
LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  381 
 
 Without  unduly  extending-  this  line  of  inquiry,  re- 
 mark that  the  sensations  of  touch  or  contact  of  pressure 
 and  muscular  insistence  are  precisely  the  same  in  kind  as 
 all  other  sensations ;  and  whilst  it  may  not  be  satisfactory 
 to  sny  with  Democritus  that  all  sensations  are  onl}-  mod- 
 ifications of  touch,  it  is  doubtless  true  that  no  sensation 
 is  felt  apart  from  an  affection  of  our  bodily  organism. 
 
 In  our  exposition  we  have  now  reached  the  point 
 where  we  arc  prepared  to  say  that  we  see  two  things 
 very  plainly — one  is,  that  we  know  our  hodily  selves; 
 and  the  other,  that  we  know  something  other  than  our 
 bodily  selves,  it  may  be  in  contact  therewith  but  separate 
 or  separable  from  the  same.  This  knowledge  does  not  re- 
 sulf  from  reasoning  or  argument;  it  is  not  matter  of  in- 
 ference or  proof.  You  can  neither  prove  it  nor  dis- 
 prove it.  It  is  self-evident — immediate,  intuitive,  indis- 
 putable. 
 
 Thai  which  is  other  than  ourselves  we  may  term 
 the  external  non  ego.  And  we  have  seen  that  it  is  only 
 so  much  of  this  external  non  ego  as  is  in  direct  or  imme- 
 diate sensible  contact  with  our  bodily  ego,  that  we  im- 
 mediately and  most  certainly  know.  The  portion  of  the 
 house  or  of  any  surroundings,  in  contact  with  my  phvs- 
 ical  organism,  we  have  already  plainly  seen  that  I  as  con- 
 scious! \  know  as  J  do  my  own  hand  or  foot.  What  is 
 thus  directly  cognized  may  be  termed  the  proximate  ex- 
 ternal non  ego.  It  is  because  we  are  thus  conscious  of 
 s;o  much  of  the  external  non-ego  as  is  immediately  in 
 contact  with  our  bodily  selves,  that,  by  analogy,  corres- 
 ponding reality  and  certainty  of  ixistence  are  ascribed  to 
 all  other  external  things  near  and  remote.  I  confidently 
 submit  that  it  is  not  possible  for  us  to  divest  ourselves 
 of  the  conviction  and  spontaneous  recognition  of  the 
 proximate   external    non  ego  as   an   existing  reality,  and 
 
382  NIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 also  as  proof  against  all  illusion,  deception  and  fraud.    In 
 accordance  with   Reid  and  others,  we  may  view    the   re- 
 mote external  non-egovs,  suggested  by  the  proximate,  hut 
 not  the  proximate  itself,  as  thus  suggested   or    inferred. 
 We  believe  the   proximate  external    non-ego    to  exist  a- 
 an    objective,    extended    reality    becuuse    we   intuitively 
 know   it   to  exist;  but    we   believe   the   remote   to   exist 
 only    by    analogy    ot  appearance     and    inference.     The 
 proximate  basis  of  faith  is  knowledge.    The  senses  never 
 deceive  us  within  their  appropriate  sphere  of  action  ;  and 
 it  must  he  home  in  mind  continually,' thru  one  sense  can- 
 not do  the  work  of  another.     Each  sense  is  discriminat- 
 ed from  every  other,  hut   no  sense  has   a  vicarious  func- 
 tion.     By  the  eve  we   see   only  an   image,  or  colored  ex- 
 tension, and  by  Required  habit  discriminate  distances: 
 far  as  the  eve  is  concerned,  the  house  around   me    has  no 
 more   reality    than  smoke.      But   if  I    undertake   to   pass 
 though  what  appears  to  be  a  wall,  the  muscular  sense   of 
 resistance  reveals  solidity   in  relation    to  voluntary  move- 
 ment,   as    the    sensation   of    pressure    reveals    the    same 
 solidity    in    an  involuntary    relation;  the   tactile   - 
 in   Cheselden's  case,   can  also  give   the  superficies    and 
 forms  of  solids,  and  in  general,  when  the  >en    :  in- 
 
 terpreted aright  and  each  is  allotted  its  proper  testi- 
 mony, the  testimony  as  given  is  true;  if  ;:u\ 
 arises  it  is  from  not  attending  to  the  checks  of  sense  and 
 of  reason  on  sense,  so  as  to  put  a  truthful  interpretation 
 on  the  testimony  given.  The  sense-,  are  not  responsible 
 for  their  misinterpretation.  No  man  is  conscious  of  tin- 
 past,  nor  of  the  future,  nor  of  the  distant.  No  man  is 
 conscious  of  the  sun  in  the  heavens,  but  ever)  one  with 
 his  eyes  open  and  turned  toward  that  object  must  per- 
 ceive the  evidence  of  its  existence  in  the  image  of  it 
 formed  in  his  eye. 
 
LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  388 
 
 For  we  are  percipient  of  nothing  but  what  is  in  proximate 
 contact,  in  immediate  relation,  with  our  organs  of  sense.  Distant 
 realities  we  reach  not  by  perception,  but  by  a  subsequenl  process 
 of  inference  founded  therein.  *  *  *  It  is  sufficient  to  establish 
 the  simple  fact,  that  we  are  competent,  as  consciousness  assures 
 us,  immediately  to  apprehend  through  sense  the  [proximate  ex- 
 ternal] non-ego  in  certain  limited  relations;  and  it  is  of  no  conse- 
 quence whatever,  either  to  our  certainty  of  the  reality  of  a  mate- 
 ria! world,  or  to  our  ultimate  knowlede  of  its  properties,  whether 
 by  this  primary  apprehension  we  lay  hold,  in  the  lirst  instance,  on 
 a  large  or  a  less  portion  of  its  contents. — (II. 's  Reid  p.  Si  i  a.  and 
 Hamilton's  Lectures  on  Met.  p.  315.) 
 
 That  portion  ot  the  material  world  which  is  brought 
 into  immediate  contact  with  our  sensitive  organism  is  the 
 erra  firma,  the  sure  and  indestructible  foundation,  on 
 which  wc  build.  To  the  extent  that  the  world  thus  en- 
 compasses ns  and  presses  upon  us,  we  as  certainly  and  as 
 directly  know  it  as  we  know  ourselves;  in  fact,  we  only 
 the  more  certainly  know  ourselves  by  f|heir  discrimina- 
 tion from  this  immediately  intuited  external  non  ego,  as 
 something  not  ourselves  and  no  part  of  ourselves;  and 
 from  the  certain  existence  and  reality  of  what  is  thus 
 most  certainly  known,  by  analogy  the  equal  reality  of 
 what  lies  outside  of  the  present  sphere  of  intuition  is 
 allowed  by  an  immediate  and  justifiable  inference.  The 
 external  world  is.  not,  therefore,  a  fiction,  a  dream,  a 
 mental  fabrication,  a  phantom,  nor  a  mere  objeel  of 
 possible  knowledge,  or  at  best  only  an  unknown  some- 
 thing believed  in  through  some  natural  and  constraining 
 suggestions  and  impulse  from  the  floating  play  ot  sym- 
 bolic  impressions  and  ideas.  It  is  found  to  be  a  solid 
 prosaic  reality,  at  whatever  point  we  come  in  contact 
 therewith,  and  hence.  Judging  so  much  of  it  as  is  un- 
 known from  what  is  thus  consciously  and  solidly  known, 
 the  human  mind  has,  in  ail  ages,  instinctively,  without 
 logic  and  without  reasoning,  accepted  the  reality  of  the 
 entire  external  world  as  resting  upon  a  footnig  as  secure 
 as  that  of  our  individual  existence.    In  this  respect,  there- 
 
384  UNIVERSITY    OK   MISSOURI. 
 
 fore,  the  faith  of  the  vulgar  is  the  true  faith  of  the  phi]  , 
 opher,  with  only  this  difference,  that  the  philosopher  gives 
 as  a  reason  for  the  faith  that  is  common  the  knowledge 
 that  is  common :  and  every  adventurous  vessel  that  has 
 loosed  the  flukes  of  its  anchor  from  the  bed-rock  of  this 
 harbor  of  common  «  :nse  and  common  consciousness,  has 
 been  dismantled  and  drifted  to  sea  as  a  rudderless  and 
 unmanageable  bulk,  by  the  storms  and  cross-currents  of 
 the  unfathomable  ocean  of  lawless  speculation.  Our 
 anchorage  is  in  the  stable,  clear,  indisputable  and  insup- 
 erable intuition  of  the  non  ego.  It  is  believed  that  the 
 foregoing  exposition  of  this  most  critical  fact  of  expe- 
 rience as  to  the  external  world,  will  commend  itself,  as 
 natural  and  truthful,  to  every  intelligent  and  reflecting 
 mind.  Each  one  is  in  possession  of  all  that  is  material 
 to  an  independent  opinion,  as  to  whether  the  interpre- 
 tation given  faithfully  minor's  the  workings  of  his  own 
 mind.  Be  sure  of  the  precise  meaning  of  the  necessa- 
 rily somewhat  technical  language  used,  and  then  check 
 off  the  errors  if*  any  be  detected,  and  the  author  of  this 
 attempt  to  act  as  nature's  interpreter  will  be  placed 
 under  sincere  and  lasting  obligations  by  being  made 
 acquainted  with  any  criticisms  thus  elicited.  Your  atten- 
 tion is  specially  challenged  in  this  exposition  of  dualistic 
 realism,  to  the  primary  point  of  departure  here  taken 
 as  located  in  the  intuition,  and  discrimination  of  the 
 external  non  ego,  as  different  from,  and  yet,  as  being  as 
 certainly  known,  as  we  know  our  complex  selves.  It  is 
 a  most  remarkable  lact  and  worthy  of  special  note,  as 
 we  shall  see,  that  as  we  intuit,  phenomenally  and  notime- 
 nally,  only  a  segment  of  the.  whole  sphere  of  the  exter- 
 nal no>i  ego,  so  in  like  manner  do  we  intuit  only  a  small 
 segment  of  the  sphere  of  the  internal  complex  personal 
 ego.     The  subconscious  or  latent  modifications  of  mind, 
 
LECTURE    OF    PR£S,    LAWS.  385 
 
 and  the  subconscious  modifications  of  the  physical  organ- 
 ism in  all  its  vital  functions,  constitute  respectively  a 
 terra  incognita  relatively  comparable  to  the  terra  incog- 
 nita of  the  external  world;  but  in  each,  the  unknown 
 must  not  be  allowed  to  usurp  the  place  of  the  known. 
 My  ignorance  only  heightens  the  value  of  my  knowl- 
 edge, as  the  density  of  the  surroundjng  darkness  only 
 gives  increased  importance  to  the  lighted  lamp  which  I 
 carry  in  my  hand,  or  wear  upon  my  brow  as  a  miner 
 tlelving  for  hidden  treasures  in  the  deep  depths  of  the 
 bowels  of  the  earth.  Here,  again,  we  are  brought  to 
 the  border  land  and  behold  that  the  real  transcends  the 
 known  and  the  knowable,  and  that  the  outlying  domains 
 beyond  the  utmost  boundary  of  the  immediate  knowl- 
 edge of  consciousness  and  intuition,  internal  and  external, 
 is  the  sacred  and  inalienable  inheritance  of  faith.  Faith 
 presupposes  and  transcends  knowledge  with  respect  both 
 of  the   ego  and  to  the  non  ego. 
 
 It  would  be  a  waste  of  time  to  dwell  on  the  fact 
 that  the  common  sense  of  men,  without  any  refinements 
 of  speculation,  has  in  all  ages  and  among  all  peoples 
 grasped  the  substantial  truth  that  the  external  world  is 
 as  real  as  our  bodily  selves.  Those  who  have  battled 
 most  stoutly  against  the  soundness  of  this  spontaneous 
 judgment,  concede  its  universal  and  obstinate  reality. 
 Lewes  remarks  that  "all  the  stories  about  Pyrrho  which 
 pretend  to  illustrate  the  effects  of  his  scepticism  in  real 
 life  are  too  trivial  tor  refutation."  In  a  passage  already 
 quoted,  Hume  concedes  that  "The  great  subverter  of 
 Pyrrhonism,  or  the  excessive  principles  of  scepticism,  is 
 action  and  employment,  and  the  occupations  of  common 
 life.  These  principles,"  he  continues,  "may  flourish 
 and  triumph  in  the  schools,  where  it  is  indeed  difficult,  it 
 not   impossible,  to  refute  them.     But  as   soon    as    they 
 
386  UNIVERSITY    OK    MISSOURI. 
 
 leave  the  shade,  and  are  put  in  the  presence  of  the  real 
 objects  which  actuate  our  passions  and  sentiments,  and 
 in  opposition  to  the  more  powerful  principles  of  our- 
 nature,  they  vanish  like  smoke,  and  leave  the  most  de- 
 termined sceptic  in  the  same  condition  as  other  mortals." 
 Shelling  labors  to  explain  the  fact  "that  mankind  at 
 large  believe  in  the  reality  ol  an  external  world,"  and 
 "that  the  man  of  c'oramon  sense  believes,  and  will  not 
 but  believe  that  the  object  he  is  conscious  of  perceiving 
 is  the  real  one."  Berkely  says:  "The  former — the  vul- 
 gar— are  of  opinion  that  those  things  they  immediately 
 perceive  are  the  real  things."  It  is  pertinent  to  quote,  in 
 this  immediate  connection,  the  following  passage  from 
 Sir  William  Hamilton: 
 
 The  past  history  of  philosophy  has,  in  a  greal  measure,  been 
 only  a  history  of  variation  and  error  ("variasse  erroris  est);  vet  the 
 cause  of  this  variation  being  known,  we  obtain  a  valid  ground  of 
 hope  for  the  destiny  of  philosophy  in  future.  Beeause,  since  phi- 
 losophy has  hitherto  been  inconsistent  with  itself,  only  in  being 
 inconsistent  with  the  dictates  of  our  natural  beliefs — 
 i?or  Truth  is  Catholic,  and  Nature  one; 
 it  follows,  that  peilosophy  has  simply  to  return  to  natural  con- 
 sciousness, to  return  to  unity  and  truth. 
 
 The  other  aspect  ot  the  case  to  which  attention  was 
 asked  is  that  in  which  we  know  our  corporeal  selves  as 
 distinct  from  what  surrounds  us  just  as  we  have  seen  that 
 we  know  the  proximate  external  ego  as  not  self.  When 
 we  restrict  our  attention  to  this  inner  sphere,  the  question 
 recurs  with  renewed  and  peculiar  interest  and  force,, 
 whether  the  distinction  between  self  and  not-self — be- 
 tween subject  and  object,  between  mind  and  matter,  can 
 be  detected  and  expounded  even  here.  As  the  object  of 
 our  research  and  as  man  knows  himself,  he  does  not  ex- 
 ist as  pure  spirit  nor  as  pure  body,  but  as  a  union  of  body 
 and  spirit  in  one  individual  person.  My  definition  of 
 sensation  that  it  is  an  individual's  consciousness  of  any 
 modification  of  bis   nervous  organism,  is   believed  to-be 
 
LECTURE   OF    PRES.    LAWS.  387 
 
 valid  in  the  case  of  each  of  the  senses,  and  i:    is  the  basis 
 of  a  new  analysis  of  the  senses  considerably    increasi 
 the    list    beyond    five.     I   do  not  say  the  modification  of 
 physical  organism,  because  the  total  nerve  matter  in  mair 
 only   averages  in   weight   about  one-fortieth   part  of  the 
 weight   of  the  body,  and  yet   its  distribution  is   so  very 
 minute  ami  ramified  that,  roughly,  the  expression    modi- 
 fication  of  the  physical  organism   might  be  supposed   a 
 proper  substitute  for  the  modification  of  the   nervous  01 
 ganism;  but,  as  a.  matter  of  fact,  this  would   be  wide   of 
 the  mark,  for,  not  only  are  certain  portions  of  the   bod) 
 as  the  hair,  nails,  cai'tilages   and  tendous   wholly  outside 
 of  all  nervous  distribution   and   hence  destitute  of  con- 
 tractility and  sensibility,  hut    the  sympathetic  portion    of 
 the    nervous   system   which    functions    the    internal 
 vital  organs,  as  the  lungs,  heart, stomach,  intestines,  liver, 
 kidneys,  blood  vessels,  &c,  is  quite  sub-conscious, or  out- 
 side of  the  sphere  of  consciousness  —so  that,  it  is  on! 
 portion  of  even  the  nervous  organism,  strictly  speaking, 
 whose   modifications  are   properly  embraced   within  the 
 above   definition  of  sensation.      It  is  a  matter  of    familiar 
 demonstration,    that    i>\     destroying    the    sensorv    nerve 
 supply   of  any  limb,  as  the  arm  or  leg,  and  then    lacerat- 
 ing  it  by  cutting  or  burning,  though  seen  to  affect  ilie.se 
 members   of  one's   body,   it.    makes   no    more  impression 
 than  cutting  or  burning  one's  coat  tail.     They   are,  then 
 as    foreign  to  consciousness    as    billets    of    wood    hung 
 upon    us    with    strings.      The    following   passages   from 
 Descartes   who    was    an  anatomist,   are  exceeding!)     in- 
 teresting in  this  connection: 
 
 "I  remark  here  first  of  all,"  he   says,  "that  there  i-  a  great  dit" 
 ference  between  the  spirit  and  the  bode  in  this,  that  the  body, from* 
 its  nature,  is  always  divisible  and  that  the  spirit  \--  entirely  indn  is 
 ible;  for,  in  fact,  when  I  consider  myself  in    so  far  as   ]  am  onl)    a 
 thing  which  thinks,  I  do  not  distinguish  in  myself  any  parts,  but    I. 
 
888  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 know  and  conceive  very  clearly  that  I  am  a  thing  absolutely  one 
 and  entire;  and  chough  the  entire  spirit  seems  to  be  united  to  the 
 entire  body,  yet  when  a  foot  or  any  other  part  is  separated  from 
 it,  I  know  perfectly  well  that  nothing  on  this  account  has  been 
 tak  en  away  from  my  spirit;  and  the  faculties  of  willing,  of  feeling, 
 of  conceiving,  &c,  cannot  be  properly  termed  its  parts,  for  it  is  the 
 same  spirit  which,  in  its  totality  ("tout  entier"),  is  employed  in 
 willing,  and  which  in  its  totality  is  employed  in  feeling,  in  con- 
 ceiving, ifcc,  but  it  is  altogether  contrary  in  things  corporeal  and 
 extended." 
 
 Again  he  says: 
 
 "Nature  has  also  taught  me  by  the  sensations  of  pain,  hunger, 
 thirst,  &c,  that  I  am  not  merely  lodged  in  my  body,  as  a  pilot  in 
 his  boat,  but  that  I  am  united  with  it  very  intimately  and  in  such 
 -manner  confounded  and  mixed  up  with  it  that  I  compose  with  it 
 a  single  individual.  For  if  this  were  not  so,  when  my  body  is 
 wounded  I  would  not  feel  on  that  account  any  pain,  I  who  am 
 only  a  thing  which  thinks;  but  I  would  perceive  this  injury  by  the 
 understanding  only,  as  a  pdot  by  his  sight,  if  something  is  broken 
 in  his  vessel;  and  when  my  body  has  need  of  drinking  or  of  eat- 
 ing, I  would  simply  know  this,even  without  being  notified  of  it  by 
 vague  sensations  of 'hunger  and  thirst;  for  in  truth  all  these  sensa- 
 tions of  hunger,  thirst,  pain,  &c,  are  no  other  thing  than  certain 
 confused  modes  of  thinking  which  proceed  from  and  depend  on 
 the  mind  and  as  it  were  the  mixture  of  the  spirit  with  the  body." 
 — (Descartes'  Oeuvres,  edit.  Simon,  pp.  124  and  120.) 
 
 These  passages  point  with  pertinence  to  the  sim- 
 plicity and  persistent  oneness  and  integrity  of  the  con- 
 scious spirit  in  man,  and  within  certain  limitations,  the 
 presentation  is  unassailable.  So  long  as  the  cord  above 
 the  third  cervical  vertebra,  and  the  vital  point  of  the 
 medulla,  which  by  reflex  action  function  respiration  on 
 which  the  circulation  of  the  blood  and  consequent 
 nutrition  depend,  be  left  intact,  conscious  sensation  and 
 voluntary  movements  are  supposed  to  be  detected  in  the 
 mutilated  organism.  When,  thus,  we  descend  to  the 
 region  of  this  dim  twilight  of  corporeal  life,  the  mental 
 and  physical  forces  still  seem  to  be  face  to  face  in  the 
 co-action  of  spirit  and  body. 
 
 The  citadel  of  materialism  which  sees  only  two 
 faces  here,  as  under  all  other  conditions,  of  a  single  force 
 is  in  the  supposed  function  of  the  nerve  cell  in  its  relation 
 
LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  389 
 
 to  the  nerve  fibre.  The  two  ultimate  anatomical  ele- 
 ments of  the  nerve  matter  or  tissue  are  the  cell  and  the 
 fibre.  It  is  conveniently  assumed  that  the  fibres  origi- 
 nate from  the  cells  and  that  the  cells  evolve  all  the  nerve 
 force  whose  transmutations  present  the  phenomena  of 
 thought,  feeling  and  will.  The  favorite  illustration 
 drawn  from  the  electric  battery  and  circuit  is  a  most  un- 
 fortunate one,  for  in  that  case  it  is  known  that  the  wire 
 conductors  are  metallic  continuations  of  the  poles  of  the 
 battery,  that  a  force  is  in  fact  conducted  and  that  the 
 force  conducted  is  generated  in  the  cells;  whereas,  in 
 the  nervous  system,  it  is  not  known  that  the  fibre  has 
 any  such  connection  with  the  so-called  cell,  nor  that  the 
 cell  evolves  any  force  whatever,  nor  that  the  fibre  con- 
 ducts anything  at  all,  much  less  in  the  manner  of  a  tele- 
 graph wire.  As  to  the  essential  point  of  the  connection 
 of  the  fibre  with  the  cell,  the  present  state  of  science  is 
 seen  in  the  following  language: 
 
 In  the  present  state  of  our  knowledge,  however  well  we  may 
 be  acquainted  with  the  peripheric  termination  of  ;i  great  number 
 of  nerve  fihres,  it  cannot  be  said  that  the  mode  of  the  central 
 origin  of  any  single  fibril  has  hitherto  been  proved. 
 
 This  is  the  language  of  Max  Schultze,  than  whom 
 there  is  no  higher  authority,  and  it  is  quoted  with  ap- 
 proval in  a  recent  edition  of  Gray's  Anatomy.  The 
 various  diagrammatic  schemes,  such  as  are  presented  in 
 some  physiologies  and  in  Herbert  Spencer's  Psychology, 
 for  exhibiting  the  cell  origin  of  nerve  fibre  and  nerve 
 force,  are  figments  of  the  imagination  and  not  portrait- 
 ures of  nature.  It  is  astonishing  with  what  assurance 
 the  critical  and  sacred  facts  of  nature — in  this  most  im- 
 portant domain  of  inquiry — have  been  supplanted  by 
 the  veriest  romancing,  which  utterly  deceives  and  mis- 
 leads the  unwary.  When  such  men  as  Huxley  and  Mauds- 
 ley  and   others  teach  these   nerve  cell    fictions  for  facts, 
 
390  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 and  none  know  it   better   than  themselves,  they   remind 
 «is    ot    the    heathen    priests  described   by     Juvenal,  who, 
 whilst  ministering  at  the  altars  of  their  false  gods,  farci- 
 cally   laughed   in  each   others'  faces,  when  they    looked 
 under  their  sleeves.     This  mockery  of  nature,  by  those 
 who  have  been   honored  as   her   priests  and  interpreters, 
 should   be   tolerated    no  longer.     It  is   not   known  that 
 any  nerve  force,  little  or  much,  wise  or  stupid,  originates 
 ?n  the  cell  at  all;  it  is  at  best  a  mere  conjecture.    Besides, 
 it  is  perfectly  certain  that    the  fibre — the  axis  cylinder — 
 stnd    not   the   cell,   is    the    fundamental    element    of   the 
 nervous  organism,  and   hence   the  cell  must  be  subordi- 
 nate to  it,  probably  by  way  of  its  nutrition.     Moreover, 
 the   agency    of    a   separate   and   superior  force    must  be 
 brought  into  controlling  relation  to  the  subordinate  force 
 of  electricity,  before    the   phenomena  of  intelligence,  of 
 mind  will  associate  and   blend    with   what  would  other- 
 wise  be    the   dull    round    of  unrelieved    physical    action. 
 It   is    positively    known,   in   all    eases   of  the    display  of 
 intelligence   in   connection    with   electrical   agency,  that 
 the  result  is  due  to  a  dual  source  of  influence.     It  is  con- 
 ceded and  agreed   that  the  portion  ot  the   physical  uni- 
 verse in  proximate  relation  to  mind  is  the  nervous  organ- 
 ism.     And      in   our   interpretation    of    the    facts    of    our 
 own     constitution,    we      find     two     forces     or     a    dual 
 agency  operative  in  the  production  of  the  phenomena  of 
 which  we   are  cognisant.     It  is  useless   to  look  for  mind 
 and  matter  elsewhere  in  the  whole  compass  of  existence, 
 it  we  do  not  find  them  here.    Hence  the  distinctness  and 
 emphasis  given  to  the  foregoing  line  of  discussion. 
 
 This  point  cannot  be  pursued  farther  at  this  time, 
 but  the  explosion  of  the  cell  fiction  of  the  physiologists, 
 a  pure  but  plausible  invention  to  explain  a  supposed 
 state    o!   facts   in    nerve   currents   and    in    the   relation  of 
 
LKOTURE    OP   l'KES.    LAWS.  391 
 
 fibres  to  ceils,  which  probably  docs  not  exist,  literally 
 demolishes  the  citadel  of  unitarian  materialism.  This  is 
 one  of  Bacon's  instances  of  an  idolatry  ot  images,  false 
 to  nature,  set  up  in  the  temple  of  the  human  mind;  and 
 it  may  be  predicted  that  all  clamor  over  the  loss  will  be 
 like  that  of  Micah,  "Ye  have  taken  away  my  gods 
 which  I  made  *  *  *  and  what  have  I  more?"  No 
 •true  worshipper  at  nature's  shrine  pays  his  devotions  to 
 any  god  of  his  own  making,  or  if  he  ;loes,  it  is  liable  to 
 be  taken  from  him.  This  cell-god  is  a  fabrication  of 
 hasty  speculation  -and  the  whole  doctrine  of  nerve  cur- 
 rents is  open  to  question.  A  careful  inquiry  into  the 
 physiological  aspect  of  this  subject  will  be  found  in  my 
 Thesis  on  the  Dual  Constitution  of  Man,  to  which 
 reference  is  made  above. 
 
 The  following  passage  from  the  First  Alcibiades 
 of  Plato,  presents  the  crude  Socratic  method  of  conduct- 
 ing the  search  after  the  dual  constitution  of  man.  As  to 
 this  dialogue,  "Socher  and  Stallbaum  are  of  opinion  that 
 not  a  single  substantial  reason  can  be  assigned  for  doubt- 
 ing its  genuineness."  The  interlocutors  are  Socrates 
 and  Alcibiades. 
 
 Soc.  Come,  now.  I  beseech  you,  tell  me  with  whom  you  are 
 conversing?— Is  it  not  with  me?  Al.  Yes.  Soc.  As  1  am  with 
 you?  Al.  Yes-.  That  is  to  say,  I,  Socrates,  am  talking?  Al. 
 Yes.  Soc.  And  I  in  talking  use  words?  Al.  Certainly.  Soc. 
 And  talking  and  using  words  are,  as  vou  would  say,  the 
 Al.  Very  true.  Soc.  And  the  user  is  not  the  same  as  the  thing 
 which  he  uses?  Al.  What  do  you  mean?  Soc.  I  will  explain: 
 the  shoemaker,  for  example,  uses  a  square  tool,  and  a  circular  tool, 
 and  other  tools  for  cutting?  Al.  Yes.  Soc.  But  the  tool  is  not 
 the  same  as  the  cutter  and  user  of  the  tool?  Al.  Of  course  not. 
 Soc.  And  in  the  same  way  the  instrument  of  the  harper  is  to  be 
 distinguished  from  the  harper  himself?  Al.  It  is.  Soc.  Now  the 
 question  which  I  asked  was  whether  you  conceive  the  user  to  be 
 always  different  from  that  which  he  uses?  Al.  I  do.  Soc.  Then 
 what  shall  we  say  of  the  shoemaker?  Does  he  cut  with  his  tools 
 only  or  with  his  hands?  Al.  With  his  hands  as  well.  Soc.  He 
 uses  his;  hands  too?      Al.    Yes.     Soc.   And  does  he   use  his  eves  in 
 
892  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 cutting  leather?  Al.  He  does.  Soc.  And  we  admit  that  the  user 
 is  not  the  same  with  the  things  which  he  uses?  Al.  Yes.  Soc. 
 Then  the  shoemaker  and  the  harper  are  to  be  distinguished  from 
 the  hands  and  feet  which  they  use?  Al.  That  is  clear,  Soc.  And 
 does  not  a  man  use  the  whole  body?  Al.  Certainly.  Soc.  And 
 that  which  uses  is  different  from  that  which  is  used?  Al.  True. 
 Soc.  Then  a  man  is  not  the  same  as  his  own  body?  Al.  That  is 
 the  inference.  Soc.  What  is  he,  then?  Al.  I  cannot  say.  Soc. 
 Nay,  you  can  say  that  he  is  the  user  of  the  body.  Al.  Yes. 
 Soc.  And  the  user  of  the  body  is  the  soul?  Al.  Yes,  the  soul. 
 Soc.  And  the  soul  rules?  Al.  Yes.  Soc.  Let  me  make  an  asser 
 tion  which  will,  I  think,  be  universally  admitted.  Al.  What  it. 
 that?  Soc.  That  man  is  one  of  three  things.  Al.  What  are 
 they?  Soc.  Soul,  body,  or  the  union  of  the  two.  Al.  Certainly. 
 .Soc.  But  did  we  not  say  that  the  actual  ruling  principle  of  the  body 
 is  man?  Al.  Yes,  we  did.  Soc.  And  does  the  body  rule  over 
 itself?  Al.  Certainly  not.  Soc.  It  is  subject,  as  we  were  saying? 
 Al.  Yes.  Soc.  Then  that  is  not  what  we  are  seeking?  Al.  It 
 would  seem  not.  Soc.  Hut  may  we  say  that  the  union  of  the  two 
 rules  over  the  body,  and  consequently  that  this  is  man?  Al.  Very 
 likely.  Soc.  The  "most  unlikely  of  all  things;  for  if  one  of  the 
 two  is  subject,  the  two  united  cannot  possibly  ride.  Al.  True. 
 Soc.  But  since  neither  the  body,  nor  the  union  of  the  two,  is  man, 
 either  man  has  no  teal  existence,  or  the  soul  is  man?  Al.  Just  so. 
 Soc.  Would  you  have  a  more  precise  proof  that  ihe  soul  is  man? 
 Al.  No;  1  think  that  the  proof  is  sufficient.  Soc.  If  the  proof, 
 although  not  quite  precise,  is  fair,  that  is  enough  for  us;  more  pre- 
 cise proof  will  be  supplied  when  we  have  discovered  that  which 
 we  were  led  to  omit,  from  a  fear  that  the  inquiry  would  be  too 
 much  protracted. 
 
 We  have  here  the  germ  out  of  which  the  Cartesian 
 speculation  was  developed,  for  in  it  we  see  not  only  the 
 pronounced  discrimination  between  the  body  and  the 
 soul,  but  the  same   disparagement  of  the   material   part. 
 
 The  poet  has,  in  the  following  lines,  measured  his 
 views  by  this  subjective  Cartesian  standard: 
 
 "This  frame  compacted  with  transcendant  skill 
 Of  mo\  ing  joints,  obedient  to  my  will; 
 Nursed  from  the  fruitful  glebe,  like  yonder  tree, 
 Waxes  and  wastes — I  call  it  mine,  not  me. 
 New  matter  still  the  mouldering  mass  sustains; 
 The  mansion  changed,  the  tenant  still  remains; 
 And,  from  the  fleeting  stream,  repaired  by  food, 
 Distinct  as  is  the  swimmer  from  the  flood." 
 
 Dr.   Krauth  has  expressed  his  recoil   from  this  unilateral 
 
 view  thus:  "The  attestation  of  consciousness  is  as  real  to 
 
LECTURE    OK    PRESS.    LAWS,  393 
 
 the  substantial  existence  of  our  bodies  as  an  integral  part 
 of  our  person,  as  it  is  to  the  substantial  existence  of  our 
 minds.  *  *  As  Philosophy  alone  knows  them,  there 
 can  be  no  mind  conceived  without  matter,  no  matter  con- 
 ceived without  mind.  Materialism  and  idealism  are 
 alike  forms  of  direct  self-contradiction.*" 
 
 As  bringing  forth  the  doctrine  of  substantial  duality 
 into  a  strong  light,  the  following  passage,  with  two  or 
 three  criticisms  which  it  provokes,  will  serve  most  ad- 
 mirably  our  purpose. 
 
 Bui  the  meaning  of  these  terms  will  be  best  illustrated  by 
 now  stating  and  explaining  the  great  axiom,  that  all  human 
 knowledge,  consequently  that  all  human  philosophy,  is  only  of  the 
 relative  or  phenomenal.  In  this  proposition,  the  term  "relative"' 
 is  opposed  to  the  term  "absolute:"  and,  therefore,  in  saying  that 
 we  know  only  the  relative,  I  virtually  assert  that  we  know  noth- 
 ing absolute, — nothing  existing  absolutely  ;  that  is.  if)  and  for  itself,, 
 and  without  relation  to  us  and  our  faculties.  1  shall  illustrate  this 
 by  its  application.  Our  knowledge  is  either  of  matter  or  of  mind. 
 Now,  what  is  matter.'  What  do  we  know  of  matter:  Matter,  or 
 body,  is  to  us  the  name  either  of  something  known,  or  of  some- 
 thing unknown.  In  so  far  as  matter  is  a  name  for  something- 
 known,  it  means  that  which  appears  to  us  under  the  forms  of  ex- 
 tension, solidity,  divisibility,  figure,  motion,  roughness,  smooth- 
 ness, color,  heat,  cold,  etc. ;  in  short,  it  is  a  common  name  for  a 
 certain  series,  or  aggregate,  or  complement  of  appearances  or  phe- 
 nomena manifested  in  coexistence. 
 
 But  as  the  phenomena  appear  only  in  conjunction,  w  e  are 
 "compelled  b)  the  constitution  of  our  nature"  to  think  them  con- 
 joined in  and  by  something;  and  as  they  are  phenomena,  we  can- 
 not think  them  the  phenomena  of  nothing,  but  must  regard  them 
 as  the  properties  or  qualities  of  something  that  is  extended,  solid, 
 figured,  etc.  But  this  something,  absolutely  and  in  itself,  i.  e.,  con- 
 sidered apart  from  its  phenomena,  is  to  us  as  zero.  It.  is  only  in 
 its  qualities,  only  in  its  effects,  in  its  relative  or  phenomenal  exis- 
 tence, that  it  is  cognizable  or  conceivable;  and  it  is  only  by  a  law 
 of  thought, which  compels  us  to  think  something,  absolute  and  un- 
 known, as  the  basis  or  condition  of  the  relative  and  known,  that 
 this  something  obtains  a  kind  of  incomprehensible  reality  to  us. 
 Now,  that  which  manifests  qualities, — in  other  words,  that  in 
 which  the  appearing  causes  inhere,  that  to  which  they  belong,  its 
 called  their  "subject,"  or  "substance,"  or  "substratum."  To  this 
 subject  of  the  phenomena  of  extension,  solidity,  etc.,  the  term 
 "matter"  or  "material  substance"  is  commonly  given;  and,  there- 
 fore, as  contradistinguished  from  these  qualities,  it  is  the  .name  of 
 something  unknown  and  inconceivable. 
 
394  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 The  same  is  true  in  regard  to  the  term  "mind."  rn  so  far  as 
 mind  is  the  common  name  for  the  states  of  knowing,  willing,  feel- 
 ing, desiring,  etc.,  of  winch  I  am  conscious,  it  is  only  the  name 
 for  a  certain  series  of  connected  phenomena  or  qualities,  and  con- 
 sequently, expresses  only  what  is  known.  But  in  so  far  as  it  de- 
 notes that  subject  or  substance  in  which  the  phenomena  Of  know- 
 ing, willing,  etc.,  inhere. — something  behind  or  under  these  phse- 
 nomena, — it  expresses  what,  in  itself,  or  in  it  :        stence, 
 
 is  unknown. 
 
 Thus,  mind  and  matter,  as  known  or  knowable,  are  only  two 
 -different  series  of  phenomena  or  qualities;  mind  and  matter,  as 
 unknown  and  unknowable,  are  the  two  substances  in  which  these 
 two  different  series  of  phenomena  or  qualities  are  supposed  to  in- 
 here. The  existence  of  an  unknown  substance  is  only  an  infer- 
 ence we  are  compelled  to  make,  from  the  existence  of  known 
 phenomena;  and  the  distinction  of  two  substances  is  only  inferred 
 trom  the  seeming  incompatibility  of  the  two  sei  ol  phenomena 
 to  coinhere  in  one. 
 
 Our  whole  knowledge  of  mind  and  matter  is  thus,  as  we  have 
 said,  only  "relative;"  of  existence,  absolutely  and  in  itself,  we 
 know  nothing;  and  we  may  say  of  man  what  Virgil  savs  of 
 /Eneas,  contemplating  in  the  prophetic  sculpture  of  his  shield  the 
 future  glories  of  Rome — 
 
 "Rerumque  ignarus,  imagine  gaudet." 
 — Hamilton's  Lectures,  pp.   96-7. 
 
 The  two  most  salient  and  most  important  points  of 
 criticism  are  the  following : 
 
 The  first  is  upon  the  use  of  the  word  relative. 
 Doubtless  it  is  true,  that  we  know  nothing  out  of  relation 
 to  our  faculties.  Any  thing  absolute, in  any  such  sense  as 
 that  it  is  out  of  relation  to  our  faculties,  can  neither  he  an 
 object  of  knowledge  nor  of  faith;  but  to  all  intents  and 
 purposes,  it  would  and  must  be  to  us  as  though  it  did 
 •not  exist.  But  when,  just  afterwards,  the  author 
 speaks  of  matter  as  thus  absolute,  i.  e.,  as  out  of  all  rela- 
 tion to  our  faculties,  it  is  on  the  assumption  that  it  is  so 
 by  virtue  of  being  out  of  relation  to  it  its  own  attributes. 
 The  language  is:  "But  this  something,  absolutely  and 
 in  itself,  i.  e.,  considered  apart  from  its  phenomena,  is  to 
 us  as  zero."  There  exists,  and  to  us  there  can  be,  no  such 
 thing  as  mind  or  matter  in  any  such  isolation  or  state  of 
 abstraction  as  is  here  supposed.     There  is  and  can  be  no 
 
LECTURE   OF    PRES.    LAWS.  395 
 
 such  thing  as  matter  or  mind  believed,  known  or  con- 
 ceived apart  from  its  properties,  as  there  can  exist  in  na- 
 ture no  properties  except  in  the  concrete.  The  same  is 
 as  true  of  moral  as  of  physical  properties.  And  neither 
 mind  nor  matter,  ;is  substance,  is  by  any  one  contem- 
 plated as  a  real  existence  apart  from  its  properties.  The 
 doctrine  of  relativity  in  its  true  sense,  does  not,  there- 
 fore, cut  off  either  substantive  matter  or  mind  from  be- 
 ing- objects  of  knowledge.  There  is  and  can  be  no  such 
 thing  as  a  relation  apart  from  the  things  related. 
 
 2.  This  leads  to  the  second  criticism  which  is,  that 
 we  do  not  have  any  such  naked  phenomenal  knowl- 
 edge, projected  on  a  back  ground  of  total  ignorance  as 
 is  here  described.  Hamilton  here  as  elsewhere  most  in- 
 considerately and  inconsistently  abandons  substantial  ex- 
 istence as  outside  of  the  reach  of  immediate  knowledge. 
 It  is  only  placing  Hamilton  in  a  position  consistent  with 
 his  better  self  to  utterly  repudiate  this  superficial  view  of 
 the  case,  although  it  appears  and  reappears  so  frequently 
 and  forcibly  in  his  various  writings  as  to  have  deter- 
 mined the  opinion  of  very  many  against  him  as  being  a 
 mere  phenomenalism  But  in  numerous  passages  set- 
 ting forth  the  fundamental  features  of  Rcid's  system,  he 
 speaks  of  matter  as  well  as  of  the  mental  self,  as  the 
 objects  of  intuitive  knowledge  or  consciousness.  It  is 
 only  by  viewing  his  utterances  in  the  light  of  the  dis- 
 tinction between  the  phenomenal  and  noumenal  intui- 
 tions, which  has  been  taken  and  submitted  in  what  pre- 
 cedes, that  his  better  self  stands  forth  in  powerful  vindi- 
 cation of  the  immediate  philosophic  knowledge  of  mat- 
 ter and  mind,  not  only  as  phenomenal  but  as  substantial 
 realities.  Indeed,  this  is  the  very  point  of  his  generous 
 and  magnificent  exposition  and  defence  of  Reid,  the 
 founder  of  the  Scotch   school  of  Metaphysics,    of   which 
 
896  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI* 
 
 Sir  William  Hamilton,  who  died  in  1S58,  is  by  far  the 
 most  learned  and  able  disciple.  A  few  citations  will 
 make  this  vital  point  sufficiently  evident:  "In  an  intui- 
 tive act,"  he  says,  "the  object  is  known  as  actually  ex- 
 isting."    Again: 
 
 la  the  first  place  knowledge  and  existence  are  then  only  con- 
 vertible when  the  reality  is  known  in  itself  because  it  exists,  and 
 exists  since  it  is  known.     Nor  did  Reid  contemplate  any  other. 
 
 Again  he  says: 
 
 Of  the  doctrine  of  an  intuitive  perception  of  external  objects, 
 which,  as  a  fact  of  consciousness,  ought  to  be  unconditionally  ad- 
 mitted,— Reid  has  the  merit  in  these  latter  times  of  being  the  first 
 champion. 
 
 But  the  very  first  fact  of  our  experience  contradicts  the  asser- 
 tion, that  mind,  as  of  an  opposite  nature,  can  have  no  immediate 
 cognisance  of  matter;  for  the  primary  datum  of  consciousness  is, 
 that  in  perception,  we  have  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  the  "ego" 
 and  of  the  "non-ego,"  ecpially  and  at  once." 
 
 This  I  shall  illustrate  by  a  memorable  example  —by  one  in  refer- 
 ence to  the  very  cardinal  point  of  philosophy.  In  the  act  of  sensi- 
 ble perception,  I  am  conscious  of  two  things — of  "myself"  as  the 
 "perceiving  subject,"  and  of  an  "external  reality,"  in  relation  with 
 my  sense,  as  the  "object  perceived."  Of  the  existence  of  both 
 these  things  I  am  convinced:  because  I  am  conscious  of  knowing 
 each  of  them,  not  mediately,  in  something  else,  "as  represented," 
 but  immediately  in  itself,  as  existing.  Of  their  mutual  indepen- 
 dence I  am  no  less  convinced;  because  each  is  apprehended 
 equally,  and  at  once,  in  the  same  indivisible  energy,  the  one  not 
 preceding  nor  determining,  the  other  not  following  nor  determined  ; 
 and  because  each  is  apprehended  out  of,  and  in  direct  contrast  to 
 the  other. 
 
 Such  is  the  fact  of  perception  as  given  in  consciousness,  and  as 
 it  affords  to  mankind  in  general  the  conjunct  assurance  they 
 possess,  of  their  own  existence,  and  of  the  existence  of  an  external 
 world. 
 
 Nothing  can  be  imagined  more  monstrous  than  the  proce- 
 dure of  these  philosophers,  in  attempting  to  vindicate  the  reality 
 of  a  material  world,  on  the  ground  of  a  universal  belief  in  its  ex- 
 istence: and  yet  rejecting  the  universal  "belief  in  the  knowledge" 
 on  which  the  universal  '-belief  in  the  existence"  is  exclusively 
 based. 
 
 If  these  passages  he  taken  as  the  rule  of  judgment, 
 I  know  no!  how  the  doctrine  of  a  noumenal  intuition, 
 which  I    have  endeavored  to  explain    and   enforce,  could 
 
LECTURE   OP   PRES.    LAWS.  .'{97 
 
 be  more  explicitly  announced.  The  substantial  cgo% 
 mind,  and  the  substantial  -non- ego,  matter,  are  "equally 
 and  at  once,"  according  to  his  language,  objects  of 
 "intuitive  knowledge"  There  is  a  power  in  truth  which 
 often  unconsciously  prevails  over  error. 
 
 There  are  several  considerations  of  the  nature  of 
 postulates  which  should  now  be  recalled,  as  having  been 
 kept  clearly  before  the  mind  in  the  foregoing  discussion. 
 
 i .  The  first  is  that  there  is  a  presumption  against  two 
 substances,  if  one  is  adequate  to  the  explanation  of  the 
 facts :  JBntia  non  sunt  multiplicanda  prater  necessita- 
 tem.  This  is  the  import  of  the  first  of  Newton's  noted 
 "Four  Rules  of  Reasoning  in  Philosophy,"  which  runs 
 in  the  following  words: 
 
 We  are  to  admit  no  more  causes  of  natural  things  than  such 
 as  are  both  true  and  sufficient  to  explain  their  appearances.  To 
 this  purpose  the  philosophers  say  that  nature  does  nothing  in  vain, 
 and  more  is  in  vain  when  less  will  serve;  for  nature  is  pleased 
 with  simplicity,  and  affects  not  the  pomp  of  superfluous  causes. — 
 (Newton's  Principia,  p.  476.) 
 
 In  the  fourteenth  century,  an  English  Schoolman, 
 Occam,  had  used  this  rule  of  philosophising  in  the  inter- 
 est of  idealism  so  sharply,  that  it  became  known  as 
 Occam's  razor;  and  it  is  the  same  rule  out  of  which  Sir 
 William  Hamilton  has  made  so  much  as  the  law  of  par- 
 simony. This  rule,  let  it  be  observed,  is  not  in  the 
 interest  of  any  particular  hypothesis,  but  is  only  regula- 
 tive and  cautionary,  and  it  may  be  as  flagrantly  violated 
 by  an  insatiable  thirst  for  unity  as  by  an  easy  going  ac- 
 ceptance of  undue  multiplicity.  The  position  of  dualis- 
 tic  realism  is  that  neither  matter,  nor  mind,  alone,  is 
 adequate  to  explain  all  the  appearances  in  nature, — the 
 facts  of  knowledge — but  that  the  two  together  are  ade- 
 quate and  that  to  recognise  more  than  these  two,  would 
 "be  to  affect  the  pomp  of  superfluous  causes." 
 
898  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 2.  The  second  criterion  of  a  legitimate  philosophy 
 kept  in  mind  is  that  its  foundation  he  laid  in  knowledge, 
 from  which  all  inference  is  excluded.  The  primary 
 question  in  philosophy  is  not  one  of  logic  but  of  inter- 
 pretation or  exposition,  wherein  our  appeal  must  he 
 directly  to  consciousness  or  our  own  intuitions.  If 
 matter  and  mind  as  substantial  realities,  are  known  only 
 by  inference,  however  short  or  natural  the  inference, 
 then  they  lie  outside  of  philosophy  and  we  have  only 
 phenomenalism  left  as  legitimated  by  this  criterion;  but 
 if  we  directly  intuit  both  matter  and  mind,  then  dualis- 
 tic  realism  is  legitimated  and  phenomenalism  is  discred- 
 ited as  spurious.  If  mind  alone  he  intuited  and  matter 
 be  inferred,  then  idealism  is  true;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
 materialism  is  true,  if  matter  alone  be  directly  cognised 
 and  mind  be  only  an  inference.  In  what  precedes,  this 
 criterion  has  not  been  forgotten,  nor  evaded,  but  con- 
 sciously challenged  at  every  step  of  the  procedure.  In- 
 ference may  enter  into  the  superstructure,  but  not  into 
 the  foundation  as  fundamental. 
 
 3.  The  third  criterion  which  has  presided  over  our 
 thought  is  that,  as  there  is  no  knowledge  without  an 
 object,  so  the  object  of  immediate  knowledge  must  be- 
 individual  and  concrete.  It  cannot  be  a  modification  of 
 mind,  separated  from  a  mind  modified,  nor  a  quality  of 
 matter,  separate  or  apart  from  matter  modified.  Matter 
 and  mind  are  known  in  their  individual  attributes  us 
 concrete  realities,  each  utterly  incompatible  s\  ith  and 
 antagonistic  to  the  other — the  one  having  trinai  exten- 
 sion, picturable  form  and  divisibility;  the  other,  unpic- 
 turable  and  indivisible  ubiquity;  the  one  is  obedient  to 
 the  laws  of  mechanics  and  the  formulae  of  mathematics; 
 the  other  has  free  will  and  moral  accountability.  These 
 facts  in  their  totality  cannot  be  reduced  to  less  than  two 
 
LECTURE    OF     PRES.    LAWS.  39& 
 
 groups,  and   hence   our   realism    must    be  dual  to  corres- 
 I   i    >'  to  the  facts. 
 
 4.  The  subjective  internal  ground  of  philosophic 
 knowledge  is  th.>  possession  of  a  knowing  power  or 
 energy,  which  is  native  and  ultimate,  and  which  has  the 
 function  of  cognising  simultaneously  and  necessarily  both 
 the  apparent  and  the  real.  As  to  matter,  this  power 
 of  intuition  is  both  sensuous  and  supersensuous ;  and  as 
 to  mind,  it  apprehends  not  only  the  phenomenal  but  the 
 real  self.  In  what  has  been  submitted,  it  is  believed  that 
 the  evidence  shows  that  the  phenomenal  and  noumenal 
 demands  of  this  power  are  met  by  matter  as  truly  as  by 
 mind;  and  if  so,  then  neither  is  entitled  to  push  aside  th< 
 other  and  to  obtrude  itself  into  the  place  of  both.  The 
 demands  of  our  internal  cognitive  power  are  alike  met  by 
 each  of  these  objects  as  objects  of  knowledge,  and  there- 
 fore the  mind  is  constrained  to  give  them  equal  recog- 
 nition  a--  substantial,  legitimate  and  valid  existences. 
 
 There  are  several  corollaries  from  the  philosophic 
 doctrine  of  dualistic  realism  which  should  be  announced, 
 before  passing  to   the  consideration  of  Theistic  Realism. 
 
 1.  The  acceptance  of  the  substantial  reality  of 
 mind  and  matter  raises  the  presumption  in  favor  of  each, 
 that  it  is  naturally  imperishable.  Each  is  known  as 
 permanent  in  the  midst  of  change.  The  rock  that 
 stands  immovable  amidst  the  surgings  of  tides  and  storms 
 for  centuries,  we  expect  to  survive  like  perturbations  in 
 the  future.  "Wnen  we  say  that  matter  has  objective 
 existence,  we  mean  that  it  is  something  which  exists 
 altogether  independently  of  the  senses  and  brain  pro- 
 cesses by  which  alone  we  are  informed  of  its  presence. 
 An  exact  or  adequate  conception  of  it,  if  it  could  be 
 formed,  would  probably  be  very  different  from  any  con- 
 ception which   din  senses    will    ever   enable    us  to  form: 
 
•iOO  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 but  the  object  of  all  pure  physical  science  is  to  endeavor 
 to  grasp  more  and  more  perfctly  the  nature  and  laws  of 
 the  external  world." 
 
 Physical  science  is  based  entirely  upon  the  testi- 
 mony of  the  senses  in  observation  and  experiment  and 
 upon  the  mathematical  deductions  therefrom.  It  "deals 
 fearlessly  alike  with  quantities  too  great  to  be  distinctly 
 conceived  and  too  small  to  be  perceived  by  the  aid  of 
 the  most  powerful  microscopes;  such  as,  for  instance, 
 distances  through  which  the  light  of  stars  or  nebulae, 
 though  moving  at  the  rate  of  186,000  miles  per  second, 
 takes  many  years  to  travel ;  or  the  size  of  the  particles 
 of  water,  whose  number  in  a  single  drop  may,  as  we 
 have  reason  to  believe,  amount  to  somewhere  about 
 
 1  o2S  =  1 00,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000. 
 (One  hundred  times  one  hundred  thousand  million  times 
 one  hundred  thousand  millions=ioo  septillions,  French 
 notation.] 
 
 "Yet  we  successfully  inquire  not  only  into  the  composi- 
 tion of  the  atmospheres  of  these  distant  stars,  but  into 
 the  number  and  properties  of  these  water-particles,  nay, 
 even  into  the  laws  by  which  they  act  upon  one 
 another.  The  grand  test  of  the  reality  of  what 
 we  call  matter,  the  proof  that  it  has  an.  objective  exist- 
 ence, is  its  indestructability  and  uncreateability — if  the 
 term  may  be  used — by  any  process  at  the  command  of 
 man.  The  value  of  this  test  to  modern  chemistry  can 
 scarcely  be  estimated.  In  fact  we  can  barely  believe 
 that  there  could  have  existed  an  exact  science  of  chemis- 
 try had  it  not  been  for  the  early  recognition  of  this 
 property  of  matter;  nor  in  fact  would  there  be  the  pos- 
 sibility of  a  chemical  analysis,  supposing  that  we  had 
 not  the  assurance  by  enormously  extended  series  of  pre- 
 vious experiments,  that   no  portion   of  matter,  however 
 
LECTURE   OF   PRE.S.    LAWS.  401 
 
 small,  goes  out  of  existence  in  any  operation  whatever. 
 *  *  *  This  then  is  to  be  looked  upon  as  the 
 great  test  of  the  objective  reality  of  matter.  It  is 
 only,  however,  within  comparatively  recent  years 
 that  it  has  been  generally  recognised,  that  there  is  some- 
 ing  else  in  the  physical  universe  which  possesses  to  the 
 full  as  high  a  claim  to  objective  reality  as  matter  posses- 
 ses, though  it  is  by  no  means  so  tangible,  and  therefore 
 the  conception  of  it  was  much  longer  in  forcing  itself 
 upon  the  human  mind.  *  *  *  The  grand  principle  of 
 Conservation  of  Energy,  which  asserts  that  no  portion 
 of  energy  can  be  put  out  of  existence,  and  no  amount  of 
 energy  can  be  brought  into  existence  by  any  process  at 
 our  command,  is  simply  a  statement  of  the  invariability 
 of  the  quantity  of  energy  in  the  universe — a  companion 
 statement  to  that  of  the  invariability  of  the  quantity 
 of  matter.  Just  as  gold,  lead,  oxygen,  etc.,  are 
 different  kinds  of  matter;  so  sound,  light,  heat,  etc.. 
 are  now  ranked  as  different  forms  of  energy,  which,  has 
 been  shown  to  have  as  much  claim  to  objective  reality 
 as  matter  has." — (Tait's  Recent  Advances  in  Phvs.  Sci., 
 pp.  346,  4,  14,  15,  17,  3.)  The  fact  is,  however,  that 
 physical  energy  is  not  known  apart  from  matter,  nor  is 
 matter  known  apart  from  energy;  so  that,  the  nori  ego 
 which  we  intuit,  or  immediately  cognise,  is  a  concrete 
 object  possessing  extension  and  energy.  In  like  manner, 
 as  to  our  internal  selfhood,  no  alembic  nor  crucible  has 
 ever  dissipated  our  personal  identity  which  surmounts 
 all  obstacles  and  survives  all  the  mutations  from  the 
 cradle  to  the  grave,  and  even  the  grave  may  be  only  the 
 occasion  of  its  shaking  the  dust  of  earth  from  its  wings 
 and  pluming  itself  for  the  bolder  flight  of  another  and 
 an  immortal  life. 
 
 The  natural  reason   for  the  imoerishableness  of  the 
 
402  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 soul  is  as  legitimate  and  cogent  as  for  the  indestructible- 
 ness  of  matter — not  its  combinations,  which  are  mutable 
 and  perishable,  but  its  ultimate  elements,  whatever  these 
 may  be.  Those  who  hold  the  theistic  theory  of  the 
 universe,  standing  as  they  do  in  the  recognised  presence 
 of  omnipotence,  esteem  both  the  actual  and  the  contin- 
 ued existence  of  each  as  contingent  on  the  good  pleasure 
 of  the  Deity.  "The  doctrine  of  an  immortal  spirit  will 
 never  come  from  the  dissecting  room  nor  the  laboratory, 
 unless  it  is  first  carried  thither  from  a  higher  sphere. 
 Yet  there  is  nothing  in  these  workshops  that  can  efface 
 it,  any  more  than  their  gasses  and  exhalations  can  blot 
 out  the  stars  from  heaven."  Whatever  be  the  soul's 
 origin,  it  is  naturally  inferred  from  its  simplicity  and  in- 
 divisibility, its  persistent  identity  and  individuality,  to- 
 gether with  its  ever  prevailing  unity  of  consciousness, 
 that  it  is  so  constituted  as  to  be  naturally  destined  to  im- 
 mortality, without  the  loss  or  impairment  of  its  native 
 powers  or  of  its  acquired  treasures.  Matter  as  known 
 is  real,  and  no  part  of  it,  nor  of  its  store  of  energy,  can 
 be  destroyed  by  any  known  means;  and  shall  we  say 
 less  of  spirit  and  of  its  princely  stores  of  energy?  The 
 natural  and  resolute  presumption  of  the  soul's  immortal- 
 ity is  the  bed-rock  on  which  may  be  built  the  super- 
 structure of  argument  drawn  from  diverse  sources;  and 
 this  presumption  casts  the  burden  of  proof  on  those 
 who  would  deny  our  heirship  to  eternity. 
 
 2.  Again:  if  mind  and  matter  are  reciprocally  od- 
 jective  and  concrete  realities,  then  time  and  space  must 
 have  objective  and  empirical  reality.  It  is  the  present- 
 ment in  consciousness  of  concrete  phenomena,  as  actual 
 and  as  in  succession,  which  arouses  into  action  the  native 
 noumenal  intuition  of  space  and  time  as  permanent  ele- 
 ments of  the  fact  of  knowledge.     All  movements,  men- 
 
LECTURE    OF    PBES.   LAWS.  403 
 
 tal  and  material,  presuppose  both  space  and  duration. 
 A  thought,  as  certainly  as  the  falling  of  an  apple,  must 
 occur  somewhere  as  well  as  some  when;  and  thus  we  see 
 that  mind,  as  truly  as  matter,  bears  inexorable  but  wholly 
 unlike  relations  to  space.  Hence,  all  attempts  at  localis- 
 ing mind  other  than  where  its  presence  is  attested  by 
 consciousness,  or  at  subjecting  mind  to  the  conditions  of 
 trinal  extension,  which  are  the  space  relations  peculiar 
 to  matter,  unwittingly,  or  purposely  tend  to  its  materi- 
 alization ,  i.  e.,  to  its  subversion  as  a  substantial  object  of 
 knowledge  and  existence.  Love,  hope,  joy,  fear,  sorrow, 
 thought  and  other  mental  states,  are  certainly  apprecia- 
 ble as  having  a  local  habitation  within  the  sphere  of  our 
 bodily  selves  and  as  having  intelligible  degrees  of 
 rational  magnitude,  but  no  one  conceives  of  them  as 
 capable  of  being  adjusted  by  the  points  of  the  compass, 
 nor  as  capable  of  measurement  with  yard  sticks  and  tape 
 lines.  Those  permanent  elements  of  knowledge  which 
 exist  independently  of  the  existence  or  activity  of  our 
 minds  are  obviously  not  originated  by  us.  Such  are 
 time  and  space.  We  conceive,  we  do  not  constitute 
 them:  and  so  of  mind  and  matter,  we  cognise,  we  do 
 not  create  them. 
 
 3.  Dualistic  realism  likewise  reveals  a  duality  of 
 energy.  Substance  as  comprehensive  of  attributes  is 
 necessarily  potential,  or  a  depository,  of  energy.  Energy 
 is  not  an  abstraction,  but  an  attribute  of  substantial 
 reality.  It  is  the  very  essence  of  causality,  which  must 
 be  twofold  as  the  only  two  concrete  causal  agents  of 
 which  we  have  knowledge,  are  mind  and  matter.  It 
 was  as  a  part  of  his  philosophy  of  nihilism,  that  Hume 
 denied  causality.  The  conservation  of  energy,  though 
 not  fully  demonstrated,  is,  nevertheless,  prudently 
 accepted    as    beyond     question:;    but     it    has    not    been 
 
404  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 sufficiently  considered,  that  its  sphere  is  wholly  within 
 the  domain  of  matter.  The  attempt  to  reduce  the 
 energy  of  mind  to  mechanical  laws  and  thus  to  merge 
 it  in  the  energy  of  matter  is  a  miserable  failure — even 
 living  matter,  in  its  lowest  bioplastic  condition,  accord- 
 ing to  n^ost  careful  and  competent  observers,  "manifests 
 certain  phenomena  not  to  be  accounted  for  by  physics." 
 — (The  Machinery  of  Life  by  Dr.  Lionel  S.  Beale,  pp. 
 19  and  45.)  Again,  it  has  not  been  sufficiently  considered 
 that,  even  were  the  phenomena  of  physical  life  reduci- 
 ble to  mechanical  laws,  still  realistic  dualism  would  not 
 thereby  be  invalidated.  An  accute  and  cautious  advo- 
 cate of  the  mechanical  view  says: 
 
 It  is  certain  that  the  materials  of  the  organism  are  to  a  great 
 extent  subject  to  the  common  laws  of  mechanical  and  chemical 
 forces.  It  is  not  proved  that  these  same  forces;  are  incompetent  to 
 produce  the  whole  series  of  interstitial  changes  in  which  the  func- 
 tions of  life  common  to  vegetables  and  animals  consist.  On  the 
 contrary,  the  mt>re  we  vary  our  experiments  and  extend  our  ob- 
 servation, the  more  difficult  we  find  the  task  of  assigning  limits  to 
 their  power. 
 
 But    whatever    the    ultimate    determination    of  the 
 
 problem  of  vital    action   in   the    physical    organism,    the 
 
 distinctness  of  the   spiritual   part  as   the  embodiment  of 
 
 an  energy  not  to  be   confounded  with  nor  merged  into 
 
 the  energy  of  matter,  is  very  strikingly  put  by  this  very 
 
 author,  who  favors  the   mechanical  view   of  bodily  life. 
 
 He  says: 
 
 If  we  take  in  a  ton  every  twelvemonth,  in  the  shape  of  food, 
 drink,  and  air,  and  get  rid  of  only  a  quarter  of  it  unchanged  into 
 our  own  substance,  wc  die  ten  times  a  year — not  all  of  us  at  any 
 one  time,  but  a  portion  of  us  at  every  moment.  It  is  a  curious 
 consequence  of  this,  we  may  remark  by  the  way,  that  if  the  refuse 
 
 ny  of  our  great  cities  were  properly  economized,  its  popula- 
 tion would  eat  itself  over  and  over  again  in  the  course  of  every 
 generation.  *  *  *  We  have  no  evidence  that  any  single  portion 
 of  the  body  resists  decomposition  longer  during  life  than  after 
 death.  Only,  all  that  decays  is  at  once  removed  while  the  living 
 state  continues. 
 
LECTURE    OF     FRES.    LAWS.  405 
 
 If  the  reader  of  this   paper  live  another  complete  year,  hi* 
 
 ■self-conscious  principle  will  have  migrated  from  its  present  tene- 
 ment to  another,  the  raw  materials,  even,  of  which  are  not  as 
 put  together.  A  portion  of  that  body  of  his  which  is  to  he  will 
 ripen  in  the  corn  of  the  next  harvest.  Another  portion  of  hi* 
 future  person  he  will  purchase,  or  others  will  purchase  for  him, 
 headed  up  in  the  form  of  certain  barrels  of  potatoes.  A  third 
 fraction  is  yet  to  he  gathered  in  a  Southern  rice-field.  The  limbs 
 with  which  lie  is  then  if)  walk  will  be  clad  with  flesh  borrowed 
 from  the  tenants  of  many  stalls  and  pastures,  now  unconscious  of 
 their  doom.  The  very  organs  of  speech  with  which  he  is  to  talk 
 so  wisely,  or  plead  so  eloquently,  or  preach  so  effectively,  must 
 first  serve  his  humbler  brethren  to  bleat,  to  bellow,  and  for  all  the 
 varied  utterances  of  bristled  or  leathered  barn-yard  life.  His  bones 
 themselves  are,  to  a  great  extent,  "in  pOsse,"  and  not  "in  esse."  A 
 bag  of  phosphate  of  lime  which  he  has  ordered  from  Professor 
 Mapes,  for  his  grounds,  contains  a  large  part  of  what  is  to  be  his 
 next  year's  skeleton.  And,  more  than  all  this,  as  by  far  the  great 
 er  part  of  his  bodj'  is  nothing,  after  all,  but  water,  the  main  sub- 
 stance  of  his  scattered  members  is  to  be  looked  for  in  the  reser- 
 voir, in  the  running  streams,  at  the  bottom  of  the  well,  in  the 
 clouds  that  float  over  his  head,  or  diffused  among  them  all. 
 
 For  a  certain  period,  then,  the  permanent  human  being  is  to 
 use  the  temporarv  fabric  made  up  of  these  shifting  materials.  So 
 long  as  thev  are  held  together  in  human  shape,  they  manifest  cer- 
 tain properties  which  fit  them  for  the  use  of  a  self-conscious  and 
 self-determining  existence.  But  it  is  as  absurd  to  suppose  any 
 identification  of  this  existence  with  the  materials  which  it  puts  on 
 and  off,  as  to  suppose  the  hand  identified  with  the  glove  it  wears, 
 or  the  sponge  with  the  various  fluids  which  may  in  succession  fill 
 its  pores.  Our  individual  being  is  in  no  sense  approximated  to  a 
 potato  by  living  on  that  esculent  for  a  few  months;  and  if  we 
 study  the  potato  while  it  forms  a  part  of  our  bodies  under  the 
 name  of  brain  or  muscle,  we  shall  learn  no  more  of  the  true  na- 
 ture of  our  self-determining  consciousness  than  if  we  studied  the 
 same  tuber  in  the  hill  where  it  grew. — The  Mechanism  of  Vital 
 Actions,  by   Prof.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  M.  D. 
 
 The  following-  passage  from  one  of  the  most  emi- 
 nent physicists,  Prof.  P.  G.  Tait,  exempts  mind  from 
 the  domain  of  matter: 
 
 Sir  W.  Thomson's  splendid  suggestion  of  Vortex-atoms,  if  it 
 be  corret,  will  enable  us  thoroughly  to  understand  matter,  and 
 mathematically  to  investigate  all  its  properties.  Yet  its  very  basis 
 implies  the  absolute  necessity  of  an  intervention  of  Creative 
 Power  to  form  or  to  destroy  one  atom  even  of  dead  matter.  The 
 question  really  stands  thus: — Is  Life  physical  or  no?  For  if  it  be 
 in  any  sense,  however  slight  or  restricted,  physical,  it  is  to  that 
 ■extent  a  subject  for  the  Natural  Philosopher,  and   for  him  alone- 
 
406  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 There  must  always  be  wide  limits  of  uncertainty  (unless  we 
 choose  to  look  upon  Physics  as  a  necessarily  finite  Science)  con- 
 cerning the  exact  boundary  between  the  Attainable  and  the  Un- 
 attainable. One  herd  of  ignorant  people,  with  the  sole  prestige  of 
 rapidly  increasing  numbers,  and  with  the  adhesion  of  a  few  fanat- 
 ical deserters  from  the  ranks  of  Science,  refuse  to  admit  that  all 
 the  phenomena  even  of  ordinary  dead  matter  are  strictly  and  ex- 
 clusively in  the  domain  ot  physical  science.  On  the  other  hand, 
 there  is  a  numerous  group,  not  in  the  slightest  degree  entitled  to 
 rank  as  Physicists  (though  in  general  they  assume  the  proud  title 
 of  Philosophers),  who  assert  that  not  merely  life,  but  even  Voli- 
 tion and  Consciousness  are  merely  physical  manifestations.  These 
 opposite  errors,  into  neither  of  which  is  it  possible  for  a  genuine 
 scientific  man  to  fall,  so  long  at  least  as  he  retains  his  reason,  are 
 easily  to  be  seen  very  closely  allied.  They  are  both  to  be  attribu- 
 ted to  that  Credulity  which  is  characteristic  alike  of  Ignorance 
 and  of  Incapacity.  Unfortunately  there  is  no  cure;  the  case  is 
 hopeless,  for  great  ignorance  almost  necessarily  presumes  inca- 
 pacity, whether  it  show  itself  in  the  comparatively  harmless  follv 
 of  the  spiritualist  or  in  the   pernicious  nonsense  of  the  materialist. 
 
 Alike  condemned  and  contemned,  we  leave  them  to  their 
 proper  fate — oblivion;  but  still  we  have  to  face  the  question,  where 
 to  draw  the  line  between  that  which  is  physical  and  that  which  is 
 utterly  bejond  physics.  And,  again,  our  answer  is — experience 
 alone  can  tell  us;  for  experience  is  our  only  possible  guide.  If  we 
 attend  earnestly  and  honestly  to  its  teaching,  we  shall  never  go 
 far  astray. — Recent  Adv.  in  Phys.  Sci.,  pp.  24-5. 
 
 It  is  not  the  language  of  thoughtless  flippancy  but 
 of  scientific  gravity,  which  is  here  used  by  Prof.  Tait  in 
 characterising  the  attempt  to  refer  the  phenomena  of 
 consciousness  and  free  will  to  the  laws  of  matter  as 
 contemptible  and  ridiculous. 
 
 In  a  passage  already  quoted,  Prof.  Huxley  says  that 
 "There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  consciousness  is  a 
 function  of  nervous  matter;"  and  on  page  291  of  the 
 same  work  he  says,  "Why  'materialism'  should  he  more 
 inconsistent  with  the  existence  of  a  Deity,  the  freedom  of 
 the  will,  or  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  or  with  any  ac- 
 tual or  possible  system  of  theology,  than  'idealism,'  I 
 must  declare  myself  at  a  loss  to  divine."  Yet,  on  page 
 314,  in  summing  up  the  argument  of  Berkeley,  he  says 
 explicitly, — "I   conceive  that  this  reasoning  is  inefraga- 
 
LECTURE     OF    PRES.    LAWS.  407 
 
 ble.  And,  therefore,  if  I  were  obliged  to  choose  be- 
 tween absolute  materialism  and  absolute  idealism,  I 
 should  feel  compelled  to  accept  the  latter."  Prof.  Hux- 
 ley here  tells  us,  first,  that  there  is  every  reason  for  be- 
 lieving in  materialism  and  that  he  cannot  divine  in  it  the 
 germs  of  any  thing  destructive  of  man's  most  sacred  be- 
 liefs and  hopes;  and  yet,  in  the  next  breath,  he  turns 
 upon  his  heels,  bovv^  submissively  to  the  Irish  Bishop, 
 and  humbly  confesses  that  in  the  alternative  he  would 
 feel  bound  to  accept  of  idealism  rather  than  of  material- 
 ism!  The  scientist  and  philosopher,  like  other  people, 
 is  bound  to  act  rationally  and  to  accept  and  adhere  to 
 what,  according  to  the  evidence  in  the  case,  appears  to 
 be  the  truth,  whether  palatable  or  not.  This,  unfortu- 
 nately, is  not  the  only  illustration  of  the  unsteadiness  of 
 the  mercurial  nature  of  this  distinguished  scientist. 
 Whatever  value  attaches  to  his  testimonv,  we  here  have 
 it  in  favor  of  both  materialism  and  idealism,  and  there- 
 fore his  complete  testimony  is  either  reducible  to  zero 
 or  valid  only  to  the  extent  that  it  supports  dualistic  real- 
 ism. It  is  believed  to  be  rigorously  true,  that  the  rejec- 
 tion of  the  evidence  in  support  of  either  matter  or  mind 
 must  issue  in  the  rejection  of  both,  for  the  testimony  for 
 both  is  given  by  the  same  witness,  our  intuition;  so 
 that  the  only  consistent  alternatives  are  nihilism  or  dual- 
 ism— as  the  whole  of  our  intuition  must  be  accepted  or 
 rejected,  there  is  either  no  causal  energy  in  the  universe 
 or  there  is  a  twofold  causal  energy  in  the  concrete  active 
 agencies  of  mind  and  matter. 
 
 The  only  true  position  and  the  one  which  it  has 
 been  the  present  endeavor  to  emphasize  is  that  mind  and 
 matter  stand  abreast  in  the  path  of  knowledge;  but  if 
 either  be  entitled  to  a  superior  claim  to  recognition, 
 doubtless  it    must   be   mind,  for  we  know     matter   only 
 
4:08  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 -through  mind,  i.  c,  by  the  exercise  of  the  cognitive 
 power  of  mind.  The  knowing  self  certainly  cannot  be 
 less  certainly  known  as  existent  and  real  than  the  not- 
 -self,  the  object  known.  But  a  discrimination  adverse  to 
 •either  is  fatal  to  both.    • 
 
 4.  The  reality  of  the  moral  factors,  which  play  a 
 supreme  part  in  the  history  of  the  human  race,  finds  its 
 seat  in  the  native  constitution  of  the  human  mind.  The 
 Importance  of  discriminating  between  the  constitutional 
 and  the  adventitious,  and  between  functions  normal  and 
 abnormal,  is  as  important  in  the  world  of  mind  as  in  the 
 sphere  of  organisms.  The  builders  of  governments 
 rad  of  civilizations,  can  as  certainly  count  on  the  resources 
 of  nature  as  the  builders  of  bridges  and  steamships. 
 
 5.  The  final  inference  which  shall  now  be  allowed 
 a  notice,  is  cautionary.  It  would  be  a  total  misconcep- 
 tion of  wnat  precedes  to  understand  it  as  in  any  way 
 attempting  to  exhibit  the  maximum  of  our  knowledge 
 ®t  mind  and  matter;  on  the  contrary,  it  would  be  nearer 
 the  truth  to  understand  it  as  giving  the  minimum  of  such 
 knowledge.  As  intelligent  corporeal  beings,  placed  in 
 the  midst  of  our  actual  environments,  we  cannot  but 
 know  ourselves  and  something  not  ourselves  and  believe 
 and  act  upon  the  assumption  of  the  reality  and  truthful- 
 ness of  this  knowledge.  But  after  having  gained  this 
 footing,  we  have  picked  up  only  a  grain  of  sand  from 
 .the  ocean  beach,  and  yet  we  are  placed  thereby  in  a  sit- 
 uation to  appreciate  with  keener  zest  the  special  sciences 
 relating  to  mind  and  matter,  all  of  which  presuppose 
 and  assume  in  some  vague  and  it  may  be  unsatisfactory 
 way,  what   metaphysics   endeavors  to  supply  in  the  way 
 
 -of  exposition  and  elucidation.  Hence  its  aim  is  not 
 isolated  but  in  common  relation  to  the  several  sub-divis- 
 ions of  knowledge.   When,  in  the  light  of  reflection,  the 
 
LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  409 
 
 primary  and  spontaneous  act  of  knowing  is  interpreted 
 and  mind  is  ascertained  to  be  immediately  percipient  of 
 self  and  also  of  not-self  or  matter,  we  do  not  understand 
 how  this  can  be  so  but  only  the  fact  that  it  is  so.  Even 
 Newton  himself  did  not  pretend  to  understand  the  ulti- 
 mate nature  of  gravitation,  but  he  deemed  its  reality  and 
 value  beyond  question.  He  says:  "But  hitherto  I  have 
 not  been  able  to  discover  the  cause  of  those  properties 
 of  gravity  from  phenomena,  and  I  frame  no  hypothesis. 
 *  *  *  And  to  us  it  is  enough  that  gravity  does  really 
 exist,  and  act  according  to  the  laws  which  we  have  ex- 
 plained."— (Newton's  Principia,  pp.  ^06-7.)  The  most 
 incomprehensible  mysteries  of  the  universe  are  epito- 
 mized in  man  himself,  as  expressed  in  the  following 
 language  by  Pascal:  "Man  is  to  himself  the  mightest 
 prodigy  of  nature;  for  he  is  unable  to  conceive  what  is 
 body,  still  less  what  is  mind,  but  least  of  all  is  he  able  to 
 conceive  how  a  body  can  be  united  to  a  mind;  yet  this 
 is  his  proper  being." — (Pensee's  partic,  i,  art.  vi,  p.  26.) 
 What  we  intuitively  know  is  only  a  small  island  in 
 the  midst  of  a  boundless  ocean.  Setting  forth  from  the 
 sure  haven  of  this  island  home,  our  inferential  or  discur- 
 sive powers  explore  the  surrounding  heights  and  depths, 
 and  faith  feels  yearnings  which  can  be  satisfied  only  by 
 the  voice  of  the  Eternal  One. 
 
 3.  Theistic  realism.  It  has  been  said  in  what  pre- 
 cedes, that  ontology  or  metaphysics  deals  with  the  facts 
 of  consciousness,  not  merely  inter  se,  as  such,  but  in  re- 
 lation to  realities  existing  out  of  consciousness;  also,  that 
 the  one  point  in  common  with  all  realists  is  that, 
 in    the   act  of   knowledge,   we    grasp   phenomena  phis 
 
410  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 substantial  reality.  The  substantial  realities  which,  as 
 we  have  seen,  are  immediately  known  through  our 
 noumenal  intuition,  are  matter  and  mind.  The  primary 
 sphere  of  the  manifestation  of  this  distinction  between 
 mind  and  matter,  as  separate  but  intimately  associated 
 substantial  realities,  is  in  our  sensible  relations  to  an  ex- 
 ternal world  as  different  from  ourselves  and  yet  so  far 
 forth  as  in  contact  with  us,  intuitively  known.  If  we 
 find  not  in  the  constitution  of  man  himself,  the  dual 
 realities  of  mind  and  matter,  it  is  in  vain  that  we  go  in 
 search  of  them  elsewhere  throughout  the  whole  universe 
 beside.  But,  having  the  light  of  this  duality  of  our  own 
 constitution  as  a  brightly  burning  torch  in  our  hands, 
 then  in  the  search  for  God  as  distinct  from  the  world, 
 we  can  intelligently  scrutinize  what  may  purport  to  be 
 the  foot  prints  of  an  author  of  nature  as  distinct  from 
 nature  itself.  But  to  go  forth  without  having  first 
 settled  this  preliminary  question  as  to  the  reality 
 and  duality  of  matter  and  mind,  and  to  expect  to  lay 
 hold  of  this  truth  in  some  remote  corner  of  the  universe, 
 is  not  a  cautious  and  prudent  way  of  attempting  to  rise 
 through  nature  and  nature's  laws  up  to  nature's  God, 
 but  a  rash  attempt  to  lay  hasty  and  violent  hands  on  him 
 by  strategy.  The  sovereign  reality  cannot  be  thus  cap- 
 tured. The  heights  of  his  abode  must  be  attained  by 
 treading  the  narrow  path  of  self-knowledge. 
 
 We  must  first  know  ourselves  and  the  universe,  if 
 we  would  know  God  and  the  universe.  God  is  a  spirit 
 and  they  that  seek  him  must  seek  him  in  spirit  and 
 in  truth. 
 
 We  are  not  con  scions  of  God.  Taking  conscious- 
 ness in  its  fullest  import  as  the  organ  of  immediate 
 knowledge  both  of  appearance  and  of  reality,  of  phe- 
 nomena and   of   noumena,  in  other  words,   taking  con- 
 
LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  411 
 
 sciousness  as  the  full  equivalent  of  the  phenomenal  and 
 noumenal  intuition,  the  statement  here  made  is,  that  we 
 do  not  know  God  intuitively,  we  are  not  conscious  of 
 God.  He  is  not,  in  either  its  phenomenal  or  noumenal 
 sense,  an  object  of  intuition.  It  is  feared  that  the  ex- 
 pression "inferential  intuition"  previously  used  may  be 
 misleading,  unless  it  be  so  explained  as  that  it  will  be 
 seen  and  understood  clearly,  that  whilst  we  may  be  con- 
 scious of  the  operation  of  mind  which  makes  the  infer- 
 ence, and  of  the  inference  itself,  vet  the  inference  is  made 
 by  the  discursive  or  logical  power  and  not  properly  by 
 the  power  of  intuition,  which,  in  its  distinctive  function 
 deals  with  self-evident  truths  and  not  with  inferences  or 
 logical  arguments.  The  existence  of  God  is  not  self- 
 evident  but  inferential.  It  is  a  question  of  mediate  evi- 
 dence and  cumulative  proof,  and  not  of  direct  knowl- 
 edge. It  is  not  a  self-evident  matter,  but  one  of  infor- 
 mation. If  we  were  conscious  of  God,  we  would  have 
 no  occasion  to  seek  Him.  No:  God-consciousness  is  the 
 shibboleth  of  Pantheism. 
 
 The  definition  of  God  which  the  evidence  adduci- 
 ble  suggests  is,  that  He  is  an  omnipotent  spiritual  being, 
 infinite,  eternal,  omniscient,  good,  just  and  truthful.  The 
 worlds  of  mind  and  matter  show  the  impress  of  these 
 attributes  which  can  only  exist  as  the  attributes  of  a 
 concrete  Being.  God  is  not  the  infinite,  nor  the  abso- 
 lute nor  any  other  abstraction.  We  cheat  ourselves  in 
 supposing  it. 
 
 The  evidence  in  proof  of  God's  existence  and  char- 
 acter may  be  arranged  under  seven  leading  heads:  i. 
 The  historical,  which  undertakes  to  set  forth  the  simple 
 state  of  opinion  touching  this  matter  in  the  different  ages 
 among  the  different  peoples;  2.  the  apriori,  or  so-called 
 ontological    proof,  which   proceeds  as  did  Descartes,  to 
 
412  ONIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 conclude  the  fact  of  an  all  perfect  being  from  the  idea 
 of  such  a  being;  3.  the  cosmological  proof,  or  the  inter- 
 pretation of  the  principle  of  efficient  causality  relative  to 
 the  phenomena  of  mind  and  matter;  4.  the  teleological 
 argument,  or  a  like  exposition  of  the  principle  of  final 
 causes;  5.  goodness;  6.  justice;  7.  truth.  The  last  five 
 lines  of  evidence  have,  it  is  believed,  unanswerable 
 value;  the  first  two  have  more  literary  than  logical  im- 
 port. 
 
 In  the  work  of  Prof.  Tait  already  quoted,  p.  26,  he 
 speaks  of  "the  fact  that  all  portions  of  our  science,  and 
 especially  that  beautiful  one,  the  dissipation  of  energy, 
 point  unanimously  to  a  beginning,  to  a  sta^e  of  things 
 incapable  of  being  derived  by  present  laws  of  tangible 
 matter  and  its  energy  from  any  conceivable  previous  ar- 
 rangement." 
 
 Says  J.  S.  Mill,  whom  no  one  will  suspect  as  pre- 
 judiced in  favor  of  Theism :  "There  is  nothing  to  dis- 
 prove the  creation  and  government  of  Nature  by  a 
 sovereign  will;  but  is  there  anything  to  prove  it?" — 
 (Posthumous  Essays,  p.  137.)  This  question  he  answers 
 on  subsequent  pages,  (174-5,)  thus:  "Leaving  this  re- 
 markable speculation — 'the  survival  of  the  fittest' — to 
 •whatever  fate  the  progress  of  discovery  may  have  in 
 store  for  it,  I  think  it  must  be  allowed  that,  in  the  pres- 
 ent state  of  our  knowledge,  the  adaptations  in  Nature 
 afford  a  large  balance  of  probability  in  favor  of  creation 
 by  intelligence.  *  *  *  *  *  *  The  argument  is  greatly 
 strengthened  by  the  properly  inductive  considerations 
 which  establish  that  there  is  some  connection  through 
 causation  between  the  origin  of  the  arrangements  of 
 nature  and  the  ends  they  fulfil."  As  to  the  attribute  of 
 goodness,  (pp.  190-1)  he  says:  "Yet  endeavoring  to 
 look  at  the  question  without  partiality   or  prejudice  and 
 
LECTURE    OF    PKES.    LAWS.  413' 
 
 without  allowing  wishes  to  have  any  influence  over 
 judgment,  it  does  appear  that  granting  the  existence  of 
 design — [which  is  unmistakably  granted  in  the  passage 
 just  quoted],  there  is  a  preponderance  of  evidence  that 
 the  Creator  desired  the  pleasure  of  his  creatures.  *  *  * 
 For  whatever  force  we  attach  to  the  analogies  of  Nature 
 with  the  effect  of  human  contrivance,  there  is  no  disput- 
 ing the  remarks  of  Paley,  that  what  is  good  in  nature 
 exhibits  those  analogies  much  oftener  than  what  is  evil." 
 — (p.  i  iS.)  The  essay  on  Theism  from  which  all  the 
 above  extracts,  except  the  last,  are  taken,  Mr.  Mill's 
 editress  informs  us  (pp.  viii  and  x),is  "the  last  considera- 
 ble work  which  he  completed,  it  shows  the  latest  state  of 
 the  author's  mind,  the  carefully  balanced  result  of  the 
 deliberations  of  a  lifetime."  The  logical  conclusions  as 
 to  intelligence  and  benevolence  being  evidenced  in 
 nature  as  attributes  of  its  author,  arc  fairly  quoted,  al- 
 though his 'individual  views  were  strangely  discordant 
 with  what  might  be  expected  from  these  statements.  But 
 it  is  a  fair  reflection,  that  the  reluctance  of  the  testimony 
 of  this  expert  logician  only  adds  strength  to  the  support 
 it  gives  to  the  doctrine  of  theism. 
 
 However,  attention  must  be  now  withdrawn  from 
 the  general  argument,  as  it  is  not  possible  to  do  more 
 than  give  this  passing    intimation  of  its  drift. 
 
 But  a  general  observation  to  which  especial  atten- 
 tion is  called  in  this  connection  is,  that  this  inferential 
 procedure,  however  comprehensively  and  skillfully  con- 
 ducted, is  not  one  of  discovery  but  of  construction.  It 
 seems  to  be  very  plain  that  man  by  searching  could 
 never  find  out  the  fact  of  the  existence  of  such  a  being 
 ;;s  this  God — it  is  meaningless  to  speak  of  knowing  the 
 fact  of  his  existence  apart  from  his  character  or  attri- 
 butes.     In  a  scientific  procedure,  the  conclusion   of  an 
 
414  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 induction    must  be  no    broader   than    the   facts    known. 
 The  house   must    not   overlap   but    stand  flush   with   its 
 foundation.     Concede  that  the  whole  universe  of  known 
 mind  and  matter  has  been  analyzed   and   then    reduced 
 to  a  synthesis;  the  tacts   not  being    infinite    they    could 
 not     suggest   nor   warrant    the   infinite   as  an    induction 
 of  knowledge.     No;    the    natural    and  inevitable   doom 
 of  the  human  mind — of  any  finite  mind,  left  to   its  own 
 search   in  this  finite  universe  for  the  ultimate  ground  of 
 all  things,  is  not   theism.     The  doctrine  of  theism  or  of 
 theistic  realism  is  not  a   scientific  discover}-  nor  a  matter 
 of  cognitive  philosophy.     The  proofs    mentioned   above 
 only    serve    to    construct    the    evidence   in    support    of 
 the  propostion  that  there  is   a  God,  such  as  defined,   but 
 not    to    discover    it.     It    is   like     constructing    the    evi- 
 dence at  present  in  support  of  the  law  of  gravitation.     It 
 took  Newton  to  formulate  and   announce  this   law,  but  a 
 school  child   can   now   understand  its   import  and   proof. 
 In  the  beginning    God  created    the  heavens  and    the 
 earth.     But  let  the  proposition  which  announces  God's 
 existence  and  character  come  whence  it  may,  the  evidence 
 from  nature  in  support  of  that  proposition  which   chal- 
 enges  our  attention,  when  sifted  and  articulately  compac- 
 ted, ^constitutes  what  is  known  as  Natural  Theology.     It 
 has  become  my  custom  to  treat  Natural  Theology  as  the 
 highest  phase  of  ontology   or   metaphysics,  for  it  i;>re- 
 supposes  and  subsidises  rational  and  philosophic  or  noum- 
 enal  ontology.      There  is  perhaps  no  department    of  in- 
 quiry more  in   need  of  reconstruction  than  this  one,   and 
 the  present  state  of  the   sciences   greatly  strengthens  its 
 positions  by  new  elucidations  and   vast  stores   of  cumu 
 lative  proof. 
 
 It  may   be  well  to  notice  that,  as  the  knowledge  of 
 God  is  contingent  and  not  self-evident  and  necessary,  its 
 
LKCTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  415 
 
 fate  is  precarious;  it  may  not  exist,  or  it  may  die  out.  How 
 often  has  it  died  out!  The  race  probably  started  with  it, 
 but,  tested  by  the  standard  of  our  definition  which  is  be- 
 lieved to  rest  in  all  its  parts  on  fair  inferences  from  na- 
 ture, the  knowledge  of  this  true  God  has  been,  as  a  his- 
 toric fact,  displaced  among  most  of  the  nations  of  the 
 earth.  The  plain  and  sad  truth  in  this  case  is  believed 
 to  be  concisely  stated  in  the  following  words  of  Leland: 
 It  is  also  observable,  as  I  shall  shew  distinctly  in  another 
 place,  that  when  the  Pagan  authors,  who  lived  before  the  times  of 
 Christianity,  urge  the  consent  of  nations  against  the  atheists  in 
 proof  of  a  Deity,  they  generally  speak  of  Gods  in  the  plural  and 
 not  of  one  God  only.  Yet,  notwithstanding  their  polytheism. 
 and  the  many  gods  they  acknowledged  and  worshipped,  which  was 
 a  great  and  most  culpable  defection  from  th6  true  primitive  relig- 
 ion, they  still  retained  in  some  degree  the  idea  of  one  supreme  Di- 
 vinity. "  But  it  must  be  owned,  that  it  seemed  at  length  to  dwindle 
 into  the  notion  of  one  God,  superior  in  power  and  dignity  to  the 
 rest,  but  not  of  a  different  kind  from  the  other  divinities  they 
 adored,  whom  they  looked  upon  to  be  really  and  truly  gods  as  well 
 as  he,  and  sharers  in  the  sovereign  dominion  with  him.  That  this 
 was  the  general  popular  notion  will  appear  in  the  farther  progress 
 of  this  work. — (Leland's  Chris.  Rev.  Vol.   i,  p.  86.) 
 
 The  only  way  to  keep  this  doctrine  alive  in  the 
 human  mind  is  by  each  family,  school-room  and  church 
 inculcating  it  upon  the  rising  generations,  just  as  each 
 age  has  to  be  taught  its  alphabet  and  multiplication  ta- 
 ble. The  state  with  us  is  not  atheistic;  nor  is  state  educa- 
 tion. The  moral  nature  of  man  consisting  of  intelli- 
 gence, freedom  and  conscience — this  ultimate  conscious 
 fact  of  man's  moral  agency,  is  pre-supjDOsed  by  every 
 court  house  and  by  the  whole  machinery  of  law  and 
 government.  All  this  finds  its  full  explanation  only  in 
 the  justice  and  moral  government  of  the  author  and  ruler 
 of  man's  nature. 
 
 It  is  already  sufficiently  evident  that  the  power  ot 
 mind  by  which  we  take  in  the  result  of  all  this  instruc- 
 tion and  proof  is  faith.  Faith  is  as  legitimate  and  as 
 natural    a    function    of  the    mind   as   intuition;  it   is  in 
 
416  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 fact  a  form  of  knowing-,  and  is  what  would  correspond 
 to  our  inferential  intuition.  But  we  know  God  not 
 properly  by  intuition  but  by  faith.  The  object  of  a  true 
 faith  is  as  real  as  the  object  of  consciousness,  but  the  light 
 in  which  we  see  it  is  not  that  of  self-evidence.  Theistic 
 realism,  therefore,  takes  its  place  properly  by  the  side 
 of  philosophic  realism  as  its  complement  and  comple- 
 tion and  not  as  its  substitute  nor  as  its  rival  or  antago- 
 nist. "There  are  three  spheres  of  wonder  in  thought. 
 The  lowest  is  simple  matter,  with  its  mysteries  and 
 beauty  and  grandeur.  The  highest  is  pure  Spirit,  the 
 self-existent  cause  of  the  universe,  and  his  angels.  Mid- 
 way between  is  the  being  in  whom  spirit  takes  to  itself 
 matter,  not  that  they  may  mechanically  cohere,  but  that 
 a  new  world  of  wonder  may  arise — mysterious  forces, 
 and  forces  which  neither  simple  matter  nor  pure  spirit 
 in  their  isolation  possesses.  Matter  and  mind  conjoined 
 do  not  merely  add  their  powers  each  to  each,  but  evolve 
 new  powers,  incapable  of  existing  outside  of  their 
 union.  *  *  *  The  philosophy  of  the  future — its  uni- 
 verse shall  be  one  of  accordant,  not  of  discordant  matter 
 and  mind — a  universe  held  together  and  ever  developing 
 under  the  plan  and  control  of  the  one  Supreme,  who  is 
 neither  absolutely  immanent,  nor  absolutely  supramun- 
 dane,  but  relatively  both — immanent  in  the  sense  in 
 which  deism  denies  his  presence,  supra  mundane  in  the 
 sense  in  which  pantheism  ignores  his  relation.  Its  God 
 shall  be  not  the  mere  maker  of  the  universe,  as  deism 
 asserts,  nor  its  matter,  as  pantheism  represents  him,  but 
 its  Preserver,  Benefactor,  Ruler  and  Father,  who, 
 whether  in  matter  or  mind,  reveals  the  perfect  reason, 
 the  perfect  love,  the  perfect  will,  the  consummate 
 power,  in  absolute  and  eternal  personality."  (Dr.  C.  P. 
 K  ra nth,  Vice-Provost,  University  Pa.) 
 
LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  417 
 
 The  two  groups  of  second  causes  are  those  of 
 -matter  and  those  of  mind :  and  the  assumption  of  a  first 
 cause  is  entitled  to  consideration  only  as  being  compati- 
 ble with  their  known  distinctive  efficiency.  In  brief, 
 the  dependence  of  all  second  causes  is  such  that,  without 
 the  original  action  of  the  first  cause,  they  had  never 
 existed  and  its  integrity  and  sufficiency  would  not  be 
 impaired  by  their  ceasing  to  be.  Moreover,  during  their 
 co-existence  and  continuance,  the  first  cause  bears  to  the 
 second  causes  the  twofold  relation  of  sustaining  and  con- 
 trolling them.  In  the  ordinary  operations  of  nature,  the 
 inherent  and  peculiar  energies  of  matter  and  of  mind 
 are  not  suspended  nor  superceded  as  held  by  Cartesians, 
 nor  abandoned  to  themselves  as  held  by  Leibnitz,  but 
 are  actively  and  unceasingly  sustained  and  controlled  by 
 omnipotence  under  the  guidance  of  omniscience  tem- 
 pered by  goodness,  justice  and  truth.  Nature's  opera- 
 tions point  to  an  ab  extra  source  of  power  as  explana- 
 tory of  their  initiative  and  also  of  their  continuance;  so 
 that  by  nature's  own  teachings,  the  God  of  nature  is  not 
 to  be  confounded  with  nature  itself,  nor  with  nature's 
 operations;  nor  is  nature  allowed  to  supercede  its  author 
 and  governor.  And  thus  theistic  realism  is  seen  to  in- 
 volve a  dualism  most  profound,  with  the  finite  universe 
 of  matter  and  mind  on  one  hand,  and,  on  the  other,  God 
 the  Creator,  Preserver  and  Lord. 
 
 Jonathan  Edwards,  1703- 1758,  heads  the  list  of 
 American  philosophers,  and  is  one  of  the  first  thinkers 
 of  all  ages;  and  as  his  towering  genius  grappled  with 
 the  more  abstruse  cpaestions  in  philosophy,  whilst  pursu- 
 ing his  labors  in  theology,  he  never  lost  sight  of  the 
 axiom,  whose  quotation  shall  close  this  discussion — 
 That  -whatever  is  true  in  theology  can  be  shown 
 to  be  both   trite  and  reasonable  in  philosophy. 
 
SUPPLEMENT. 
 
 The  following  three  lectures  by  Profs.  A.  F.  Fleet, 
 J.  S.  Black-well  and  Conrad  Diehl,  though  not  included 
 in  the  original  course  in  the  first  portion  of  this  volume, 
 have  been  inserted  as  a  supplement  by  the  request  of  the 
 Faculty  of  the  Missouri  State  University.  These  sup- 
 plementary lectures  appear  in  the  order  of  the  appoint- 
 ment of  their  authors  and  are  presented  as  their  inau- 
 gurals upon  entering  on  the  labors  of  their  several 
 departments.  They  were  delivered  in  the  University 
 chapel  on  the  mornings  of  January  14th  and  15th,  1SS0, 
 in  the  presence  of  the  Curators,  Faculty  and  Students. 
 
INAUGURAL  LECTURES. 
 
 ADVANTAGES  OF  CLASSICAL  STUDY. 
 
 By  A.  F.  Fleet,  Professor  of  Greek  and  Compar- 
 ative Philology    in    the    University    of    the 
 State  of  Missouri. 
 Mr.  President,  Gentlemen  of  the  Board  of  Curators, 
 Ladies  and  Gentlemen  : 
 
 No  educational  question  has  been  more  warmly  dis- 
 cussed during  the  nineteenth  century,  and  none  has  had 
 more  ardent  champions  and  more  violent  opposers  than 
 the  question  of  the  "Advantages  of  Classical  Study,"  on 
 which  I  design  to  speak  to  you  briefly  to-day. 
 
 Nor  has  its  consideration  been  confined  to  our  own 
 century,  or  to  our  own  age;  for  from  the  time  of 
 John  Locke,  and  later  in  a  somewhat  different  form, 
 of  Dean  Swift  and  Sir  William  Temple  in  Eng- 
 land, and  Fontenelle  in  France,  to  the  present  day, 
 this  question  has  been  the  arena  on  which  rival  edu- 
 cational factions  have  poised  the  lance  in  many  a  hard 
 fought  battle,  often  more    eager,  perhaps,  to   gain   the 
 
422  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 victory  for  their  respective  sides  than  to  advance  the 
 cause  of  truth;  or  to  discover  that  between  the  two 
 extremes  in  this,  as  in  most  other  warmly  contested 
 questions,  lay  always  the  safest  and  the  wisest  course. 
 Permit  me  to  state,  therefore,  on  the  threshold  of 
 my  address,  that  I  come  not  before  you  as  a  blind  de- 
 fender of  the  study  of  the  Greek  and  the  Latin  to 
 the  exclusion  of  the  modern  languages,  or  mathematics, 
 or  the  physical  sciences,  or  of  history,  or  philosophy — 
 not  as  a  professorial  Don  Quixote,  armed  cap-a-pie,  and 
 anxious  to  encounter  in  mortal  combat  any  and  all  scien- 
 tific windmills  I  may  chance  to  meet;  but  taking  off  my 
 hat  to  these  invincible  giants,  and  carefully  avoiding  anv 
 encounter  by  a  full  recognition  of  their  real  merits,  I 
 purpose,  nevertheless,  in  the  true  spirit  of  a  genuine  dis- 
 ciple of  St.  Crispin,  to  argue  with  all  comers  that  on 
 earth  there  is  nothing  like  leather!  And  still  lest  I  may 
 seem  too  eager,  as  was  said  to  be  the  wont  of  the  ancient 
 sophists,  to  make  the  werst  appear  the  better  reason,  I 
 beg  you  carefully  to  note  the  argument,  and,  if  possible, 
 to  detect  the  error  in  history  or  in  logic. 
 
 A.  prejudice  against  the  study  of  the  classics  is  not 
 new.  It  has  existed  in  all  countries  in  which  these 
 languages  have  formed  an  important  part  of  the  educa- 
 tional course.  In  Germany,  in  England,  in  Scotland, 
 the  conflict  has  been  long  and  bitter  between  the  advo- 
 cates and  the  opposers  of  classical  learning,  and  with 
 varying  success — the  victory  now  leaning  to  one  side  and 
 now  to  the  other.  Nor  is  it  entirely  a  new  question  in 
 our  own  country.  Nearly  a  hundred  years  ago  a  dis- 
 tinguished scholar  of  Philadelphia  published  a  pamphlet 
 on  the  subject  in  which  he  savs,  "The  expulsion  of  Latin 
 and  Greek  from  our  schools  would  produce  a  revolution 
 in  society    and    in    human    affairs.     That  nation    which 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  428 
 
 shall  first  shake  off  the  fetters  of  those  ancient  languages 
 will  advance  further  in  knowledge  and  happiness  in 
 twenty  years  than  any  nation  in  Europe  has  done  in  a 
 hundred."  Forty  years  later,  in  1S24,  there  appeared  in 
 a  Boston  paper  a  series  of  anonymous  but  powerful  ar- 
 ticles in  which  the  writer  took  the  ground  that  "the  dead 
 languages  are  no  guide  to  the  signification  of  English 
 words;"  "no  guide  to  English  Grammar;"  "no  benefit 
 to  style;"  "that  classical  literature  is  of  little  value  as 
 a  source  of  knowledge;"  "that  classical  studies  are  not 
 the  be6t  means  ot  strengthening  the  understanding;" 
 "and  of  not  much  value  as  an  aid  to  the  study  of  modern 
 languages." 
 
 About  the  same  time  Hon.  Thos.  S.  Grimke  of 
 Charleston,  S.  C,  a  most  accomplished  scholar,  and  for 
 many  years  a  diligent  and  successful  student  of  the 
 classics,  in  an  address  on  the  "Character  and  Object  of 
 Science,"  speaks  as  follows:  "The  whole  system  of 
 education  is  destined  to  undergo  an  American  Revolu- 
 tion in  a  higher  and  holier  sense  of  the  term  than  that 
 of  '76,  by  the  substitution  of  a  complete  Christian 
 American  education  for  the  strange  and  anomalous  com- 
 pound of  the  spirit  of  ancient,  foreign,  heathen,  states  of 
 society  with  the  genius  of  Modern  American  Christian 
 institutions." 
 
 Sentiments  like  these  uttered  by  scholars  of  ac- 
 knowledged ability  in  different  parts  of  the  country 
 could  not  but  have  their  influence,  and  the  faith  of  m  any 
 was  shaken  in  the  old  curriculum,  in  which  the  Greek 
 and  Latin  had  heretofore  held  an  unquestioned  promi- 
 nence. Some  of  the  colleges  yielded  to  what  seemed  a 
 popular  demand,  and  in  1S27,  Yale  appointed  a  commit- 
 tee to  consider  the  expediency  of  dispensing  with  the 
 studv  of  the  "dead  lang-uag'es."     About   the  same  time 
 
424  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 Amherst  College  proposed  too  parallel  courses  of  study,, 
 one  to  include^  the  other  to  exchide  the  classics,  but  sub- 
 stituting other  studies  therefor.  In  both  institutions, 
 however,  the  new  departure  soon  ran  its  course,  and  the 
 classics  were  restored  to  their  original  place  in  the 
 curriculum. 
 
 The  general  agitation  of  the  question  elicited  a 
 thorough  and  exhaustive  discussion.  A  large  number 
 of  able  addresses  were  delivered  in  their  defence,  and 
 elaborate  articles  with  the  same  import,  were  published 
 in  the  leading  journals  of  the  day,  and  for  many  years 
 the  question  was  considered  settled  in  favor  of  the 
 classics.  But  as  in  nature  we  look  for  periodic  returns 
 of  epidemic  diseases,  and  in  the  religious  world  we 
 expect  at  least  once  or  twice  every  century  a  recurrence 
 of  religious  questions  long  ago  met  and  triumphantly 
 answered,  so  in  the  literary  world,  and  especially  in  this 
 fast  and  utilitarian  age,  in  a  day  when  the  institutions  of 
 centuries  are  swept  away  by  the  stroke  of  a  pen,  when 
 the  foundations  of  governments  painfully  elaborated 
 from  the  brains  and  hearts  of  purest  statesmen  and  un- 
 selfish patriots  are  shaken  to  their  very  base;  in  an  age 
 when  such  colossal  fortunes  are  amassed  as  our  ancestors 
 had  only  read  of  in  oriental  story ;  in  an  age  when  the 
 foremost  question  to  every  proposition  is  "Will  it  pay?" 
 — in  such  an  age  is  it  strange  that  there  has  arisen  a  new 
 philosophy  despising  the  old  land-marks,  and  declaring 
 in  defiance  of  the  sentiment  of  all  the  wisdom  of  the 
 past,  that  there  is  a  "royal  road  to  learning,"  and  that 
 the  "Open  sesame!"  to  all  useful  and  profitable  knowl- 
 edge is  a  few  months  spent  in  a  study  of  the  physical 
 sciences,  or  better  still  in  getting  a  "practical"  knowl- 
 edge of  arithmetic  and  book-keeping,  and  banking  and 
 telegraphy    and   penmanship?     Why   even   in  our  own 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  425 
 
 state,  and  in  some  leading  institutions,  it  has  been  said 
 that  many  a  hungry  student  has  been  given  a  stone 
 when  he  asked  for  bread,  has  been  refused  even  a  drop 
 to  slake  his  thirst  when  his  soul  longed  for  deep  draughts 
 from  the  Pierian  spring  of  ancient  lore. 
 
 The  sentiment  which  took  its  rise  in  the  East  grew 
 much  more  rapidly  in  the  West.  Let  me  illustrate  by 
 an  incident  in  my  own  experience:  Meeting  a  few 
 months  since  a  distinguished  graduate  of  one  of  our  best 
 western  universities,  he  congratulated  me  upon  my  elec- 
 tion to  a  chair  in  this  institution,  and  remarked  that  I 
 would  have  an  easy  time  in  my  new  position,  uFor," 
 said  he,  "You  will  not  find  more  than  three  or  four  stu- 
 dents in  the  University  who  will  take  Greek!"  Thanks 
 to  my  learned  predecessor,  and  to  my  present  able  and 
 distinguished  colleague  in  the  classical  chair,  there  may 
 be  seen  to-day  on  our  catalogue  as  large  a  proportion  of 
 students  in  the  departments  of  Latin  and  Greek  as  are 
 found  in  most  of  the  colleges  and  universities  of  the 
 country,  and  there  is  every  reason  to  hope  that  in 
 another  decade  the  classical  students  of  this  university 
 will  equal  both  in  enthusiasm  and  in  numbers  those  of 
 any  other  institution  in  the  land. 
 
 The  discussion  to  which  allusion  has  been  made,  has 
 been  revived  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  within  the 
 past  fifteen  or  twenty  years.  Defects  and  abuses  in-  the 
 methods  of  instruction  were  found  to  exist  in  England 
 and  Scotland,  and  at  once  the  inference  was  drawn  that 
 there  was  a  similar  waste  of  time  in  the  acquisition  of 
 classical  learning  among  us.  In  England  Prof.  Atkinson 
 discoursed  upon  "Classical  and  Scientific  Studies;"  "Re- 
 marks on  Classical  and  Utilitarian  Studies"  by  Dr.  Jacob 
 Bigelow  appeared ;  a  collection  of  "Essays  on  the  Cul- 
 ture Demanded  by   Modern  Life,"  edited  by   Dr.   You- 
 
426  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 mans  in  this  country,  and  later  "Essays  on  Liberal  Edu- 
 cation," edited  by  Rev.  F.  W.  Farrar,  since  become 
 famous  for  his  radical  views  on  some  theological  sub- 
 jects. The  tendency  of  all  these  books  and  essays  is  to 
 depreciate  the  value  of  the  study  of  Latin  and  Greek, 
 and  to  dissuade  the  young  from  entering  upon  it, 
 although  admitting  to  some  extent  the  advantages  to  be 
 derived  from  it.  The  popular  journals  also  often  ques- 
 tion and  disparage  the  usefulness  of  such  studies,  and 
 create  in  the  public  mind  a  distrust  of  the  courses  so  long 
 adopted  in  the  leading  colleges  and  universities  of  the 
 country.  It  has  not  been  long,  since  one  of  them  con- 
 tended that  "Scientific  education  will  steadily  supplant 
 classical  education  during  the  present  half  century.  Step 
 by  step  the  champions  of  classical  training  are  retreating 
 from  their  oldest,  if  not  their  strongest  positions."  And 
 another,  that  "Classical  education  has  no  apologists,  but 
 is  assailed  equally  by  men  of  science  and  by  scholars." 
 Or,  "The  sciences  are  of  infinitely  more  importance  to 
 the  men  of  the  country  than  Greek  roots."  A  teacher 
 at  one  of  our  educational  conventions  not  long  ago 
 declared  that  in  his  opinion  "the  study  of  the  classics 
 was  leading  us  back  to  barbarism;"  while  a  member  of 
 the  School  Board  and  one  of  the  highest  teachers  in 
 Massachusetts,  a  state  of  boasted  culture,  affirmed  that 
 six  months  was  enough  for  the  study  of  Latin,  and  that 
 three  months  was  better — less  enthusiastic,  it  is  true,  but 
 hardly  less  ignorant  than  the  backwoods  preacher,  who 
 declared  to  bis  city  brother,  after  an  able  disquisition  on 
 the  beauties  of  the  original  Greek  of  his  text,  that  he 
 meant  to  know  Greek  if  it  took  him  six  weeks  to 
 learn  it! 
 
 What  shall   we   say  then  to  such  statements  made 
 with  so  much   confidence   and    self-assertion?      Readily 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  427 
 
 might  thev  be  met  by  counter  statements  and  opinions 
 of  the  most  eminent  scholars  known  to  fame  in  Europe 
 and  America,  whose  breadth  of  culture  and  world-wide 
 reputation  would  claim  for  them  at  least  a  respectful 
 consideration;  but  we  would  rather  rest  our  cause  upon 
 a  few  of  the  many  arguments  which  might  be  presented 
 in  behalf  of  these  studies. 
 
 In  order,  therefore,  that  we  may  fully  appreciate 
 the  merits  of  the  question  under  discussion,  we  must 
 learn  on  the  very  threshold  what  is  the  meaning  and 
 what  the  true  end  of  all  education,  and  in  what  way  the 
 tudy  of  the  classics  will  aid  the  diligent  student  in 
 strengthening  those  powers  of  mind  which  wiil  qualify 
 him  for  the  consideration  of  any  and  all  questions  arising 
 before  him,  and  upon  which  be  may  desire  to  concen- 
 trate his  thoughts,  or  exercise  a  correct  judgment. 
 
 Even  the  meaning  of  the  word  and  the  objects  to 
 be  attained  have  been  the  ground  of  controversy.  There 
 are  those  who  maintain  that  all  education  should  have  as 
 its  object  professional  training,  or  the  acquisition  of  such 
 knowledge  as  may  be  turned  to  use  in  practical  life;  that 
 if  a  young  man  is  to  be  a  physician,  his  knowledge  of 
 mathematics  need  only  extend  so  far  as  to  enable  him  to 
 weigh  out  his  medicines  or  cast  up  his  accounts;  of 
 geography,  as  to  find  his  road  to  the  homes  of  the 
 wealthiest  families;  and  that  he  need  only  read  well 
 enough  to  get  through  the  long  words  in  his  anatomy 
 and  physiology  without  spelling  out  more  than  half; 
 while,  if  he  is  to  be  a  farmer  he  should  attend  his  Dis- 
 trict School  at  least  two  or  three  days  a  week  during  the 
 winter  months,  that  he  may  learn  to  read  his  county 
 paper  without  much  trouble,  and  get  writing  and  arith- 
 metic enough  to  figure  out  the  price  of  so  many  head  of 
 cattle  at   so   much   a   pound;    or   as    the    culmination   of 
 
428  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 mathematical  and  business  knowledge,  to  be  able  to 
 calculate  interest  compounded  every  quarter  at  I  y2  per 
 cent,  a  month ! 
 
 But  there  are  others — old-fashioned  people  perhaps, 
 not  abreast  of  the  times,  who  have  the  idea  that  educa- 
 tion means  something-  more  than  this;  that  it  is  the 
 training-  and  developing  and  disciplining  of  all  the  pow- 
 ers of  the  mind,  just  as  gymnastic  exercises  develop  and 
 strengthen  all  the  muscles  of  the  body;  that  education  is 
 designed  to  widen  the  mind  so  that  it  can  take  broad  and 
 comprehensive,  instead  of  narrow  and  contracted  views; 
 that  education  should  enable  a  man  to  take  up  any  sub- 
 ject and  think  patiently  upon  it,  until  he  has  seen  every 
 side  of  it  and  seen  through  it;  that  education  gives 
 sound  judgment,  enables  one  to  reason  to  right  conclu- 
 sions, gives  him  the  ability  to  express  his  thoughts 
 tersely  and  vigorously.  Look,  for  example,  at  our  suc- 
 cessful business  men.  How  broadly  comprehensive  must 
 be  the  views  of  a  merchant  prince,  a  great  manufac- 
 turer, an  extensive  farmer,  a  large  dealer  in  grain  or 
 stock,  a  railroad  king!  He  can  look  into  a  subject  until 
 he  sees  through  it  and  knows  all  about  it  that  is  worth 
 knowing;  until  he  has  just  and  correct  views  of  things, 
 and  can  give  such  clear  and  forcible  expression  to 
 his  views  as  to  make  others  think  as  he  does. 
 He  it  is  who  will  always  rise  above  his  fellows, 
 wdl  control  their  labor,  will  acquire  wealth  and 
 will  be  a  master  among  men.  In  many  cases  these 
 men  have  gained  their  education  or  training  slowly 
 and  painfully  in  the  school  of  life,  and  often  have  reached 
 middle  age  before  they  have  attained  this  point.  Now, 
 if  it  is  possible  for  us  to  select  certain  branches  of  knowl- 
 edge and  so  to  combine  them  as  that  by  putting  our  stu- 
 dent through  them    we   can   develop  all   the   faculties  of 
 
LKCTURE    OF     PROF.    FLEET.  429 
 
 his  mind,  we  anticipate  the  discipline  slowly  and  pain- 
 fully gained  by  contact  with  his  fellows,  and  give  the 
 young  man  of  twenty-five  much  of  that  breadth  of 
 thought,  soundness  of  judgment  and  accuracy  of  expres- 
 sion which  in  the  school  of  life  he  could  hardly  have 
 attained  before  reaching  fifty  years  of  age.  It  is  a  re- 
 markable fact  that  the  real  foundations  of  wealth  of  three 
 of  the  richest  men  of  our  country,  John  Jacob  Astor, 
 George  Peabody  and  Cornelius  Vanderbilt,  were  not 
 laid  until  they  had  passed  beyond  fifty  years  of  age.  If, 
 by  some  educational  process  they  could  have  been  so 
 trained  as  to  have  known  at  thirty  what  they  had  learned 
 at  fifty,  what  immense  material  possibilities  would  have 
 lain  before  them  in  their  long  lives! 
 
 In  this  sense,  therefore,  education  is  not  so  much 
 designed  to  impart  information  and  store  the  mind  with 
 knowledge,  as  to  awaken  the  desire  and  supply  the 
 power  of  acquiring  knowledge;  not  so  much  to  furnish 
 special  training  for  particular  pursuits,  or  to  prepare  a 
 man  for  his  future  calling,  as  to  give  general  culture  and 
 fit  him  for  any  calling;  not  to  leave  him  a  slave,  con- 
 fined to  one  single  path  of  securing  a  livelihood,  but  to 
 make  him  a  freeman  by  elevating  him  above  the 
 common  level,  and  enabling  him  from  his  commanding 
 height  to  select  any  path  in  life  which  seemed  to  offer 
 him  the  most  advantages;  in  short,  by  bringing  out  and 
 training  all  those  powers  and  habits  of  mind  which  will 
 enable  a  man  in  his  social  or  business  capacity  to  deal 
 successfully  with  his  fellow-men,  and  exert  a  wholesome 
 and  useful  influence  upon  all  within  his  sphere  of  action. 
 To  confine  education,  therefore,  to  what  is  purely  tech- 
 nical or  professional  is  to  take  a  very  narrow  view  of  the 
 subject,  to  forget  that  man  has  other  duties  to  perform 
 besides  those  of  his  trade  or  his  profession,  or  of  making 
 
430  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 as  much  money  as  he  can  within  a  given  time.  He  has 
 to  be  the  ruler  and  counsellor  in  the  home  circle  to  whom 
 wife  and  children  look  up  for  advice  and  direction;  he 
 has  to  meet  his  neighbors  and  friends  in  daily  inter- 
 course; he  has  to  bear  his  part  in  political  and  business 
 and  church  affairs;  and  his  education  is  to  fit  him  for  all 
 these  religious,  social,  civil  and  political  duties  as  well  as 
 for  his  profession  or  trade.  Such  an  education  cannot 
 be  attained  simply  by  the  acquisition  of  knowledge.  No 
 amount  of  knowledge  will  enable  him  to  grasp  all  the 
 subjects  and  grapple  successfully  with  all  the  difficulties 
 which  meet  him  in  ordinary  life.  Nothing,  in  fact,  but 
 the  vigorous  and  healthy  action  of  all  his  faculties  will 
 give  him  power  to  quit  himself  like  a  man  in  the  great 
 battle  of  life.  Then,  too,  a  generous  and  thorough  cul- 
 ture is  the  best  preparation  for  any  special  work,  and 
 should  therefore  be  the  primary  end  to  be  aimed  at  in 
 education.  For  our  American  people,  especially,  we  are 
 sure,  as  had  been  said  by  a  distinguished  writer,  there 
 is  something  higher  and  better  than  "to  draw  existence, 
 propagate  and  rot."  We  presume  it  is  our  ambition  to 
 become  a  cultivated,  literary  nation,  and  we  have  failed 
 to  read  aright  the  signs  of  the  times  if  we  have  not 
 observed  the  wonderful  advance  made  in  this  direction 
 in  the  past  few  years.  Ours  is  no  longer  a  new  country. 
 In  material  and  mechanical  advancement  we  have  gone 
 far  beyond  European  nations  already  well  advanced  in 
 all  the  appointments  of  civilization  and  culture  before  our 
 nation's  birth;  and  that  we  may  keep  pace  with  mate- 
 rial, there  must  be  rapid  and  thorough  mental  progress- 
 also.  In  a  few  years,  beyond  doubt,  it  will  be  considered 
 absolutely  necessary  in  order  to  satisfy  public  opinion, 
 that  the  acceptable  lawyer,  physician,  editor,  teacher, 
 shall   Dossess    here,  as  in  Europe,   a    carefully    acquired 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  431 
 
 general  education,  as  well  as  a  thorough  training  for  his 
 special  profession.  And  the  time  may  come  in  the 
 Golden  Age  of  the  Republic  when  we  will  have  in  our 
 American  Civil  Service,  as  Great  Britain  has  long  had 
 in  hers  with  the  happiest  results,  competitive  examina- 
 tions for  all  positions  of  emolument  or  honor  under  the 
 appointment  of  the  government,  and  when  the  fact  of  a 
 man's  knowing  something  of  the  language  and  litera- 
 ture of  a  foreign  nation,  will  not  be  taken  as  prima 
 facie  evidence  of  his  unfitness  for  his  appointment  to 
 that  country,  because,  forsooth,  he  is  so  unfortunate  as 
 to  be  one  of  "them  literary  fellows." 
 
 Bv  the  expression  "Classical  Study"  is  meant  the 
 study  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages  and  their  litera- 
 tures. The  origin  and  meaning  of  the  word  is  derived 
 from  the  political  economy  of  Rome.  In  listing  the 
 Roman  citizen  for  taxation,  one  man  was  rated  accord- 
 ing to  his  income  in  the  fourth  class,  another  in  the  third 
 class,  and  soon;  but  he  who  was  in  the  highest  class 
 wa6  said  emphatically  to  be  of  the  class,  "ciassicus" 
 without  adding  the  number,  as  in  that  case  superfluous. 
 Hence,  by  a  plain  analogy,  the  best  authors  were  rated 
 as  "classici"  and  as  those  of  the  best  class  or  rank  were 
 Greek  and  Roman  writers,  so  the  term  classics  has  been 
 applied  to  the  best  literature  of  those  nations  of  an- 
 tiquity. 
 
 How  did  the  Greek  and  the  Latin  languages  gain 
 the  position  they  have  held  for  nearly  twenty  centuries 
 in  all  the  courses  of  liberal  education?  The  bright  and 
 beautiful  Athens,  the  eye  of  Greece,  under  the  far- 
 reaching  plans  of  Pisistratus,  and  nourished  by  the 
 wealth  and  taste  of  Cimon  and  Pericles,  became  the 
 home  of  European  literature  and  the  source  of  European 
 
432  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 civilization.  Athens  drew  to  her  bosom  and  then  sent 
 back  again  to  the  business  of  lite  the  flower  of  European 
 and  Asiatic  youth  for  a  long  thousand  years.  "Hither 
 then,"  says  Cardinal  Newman,  "as  to  a  sort  of  ideal 
 land,  where  all  the  archetypes  of  the  great  and  the  fair 
 were  found  in  substantial  being,  and  all  departments  of 
 truth  explored,  and  all  diversities  of  intellectual  power 
 exhibited,  where  taste  and  philosophv  were  majestically 
 enthroned  as  in  a  royal  court,  where  there  was  no 
 sovereignty  but  that  of  mind,  and  no  nobility  but  that  of 
 genius,  where  professors  were  rulers  and  princes  did 
 homage,  hither  flocked  continually  from  the  very  cor- 
 ners of  the  orbis  terrarum,  the  many-tongued  genera- 
 tion, just  rising  or  just  risen  into  manhood,  in  order  to 
 gain  wisdom." 
 
 After  the  death  of  Alexander  the  Great,  the  Greek 
 tongue  spread  rapidly  through  the  East,  and  became  the 
 means  of  blending  Oriental  and  Western  modes  of 
 thought.  Commerce  effected  a  change  of  ideas,  and 
 the  Greek,  offering  a  new  philosophy  for  the  old  re- 
 ligion of  the  Jews,  secured  for  Europe  the  more 
 precious  gift  of  Christianity.  Christianity  had  Greek 
 for  its  mother-tongue.  St.  Paul,  a  Roman  citizen, 
 writes  in  Geeek  to  the  Christians  at  Rome,  and  in  tha 
 same  language  were  written  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews, 
 and  that  of  St.  James  to  the  twelve  Jewish  tribes  scat- 
 tered abroad.  For  nearly  300  years,  says  Milman,  the 
 churches  of  the  West  were  mostly  Greek  religious  col- 
 onies. The  Apostolic  Fathers,  the  apologists  and  hi^o- 
 rians,  and  the  great  theologians  of  the  early  church 
 wrote  and  spoke  Greek.  The  proceedings  of  the  first 
 Seven  Councils  were  carried  on  in  that  tongue,  for  it 
 was  hardly  possible  to  treat  the  profound er  theological 
 questions  in  any   other   language.     St.  Augustine  ipuld 
 
LECTURE  OF  PROF.  FLEET.  433 
 
 not  find  words  to  speak  of  them  in  Latin,  and  even  seven 
 centuries  later  Anselm  undertakes  the  task  with  diffidence 
 and  hesitation.  And  thus,  when  Christianity  became  the 
 State  religion,  and  the  Emperor  took  part  in  the  discus- 
 sions of  Nicaea,  it  was  a  last  and  signal  spiritual  triumph 
 of  captive  Greece  over  capturing  Rome. 
 
 The  ancient  church  encouraged  acquaintance  with 
 heathen  literature,  and  Origen  made  a  study  of  the  poets 
 and  moralists  preparatory  to  that  of  higher  Christian 
 truth.  His  master,  Clement,  taught  his  disciples  that  the 
 Grecian  philosophy  was  the  schoolmaster  which  led 
 them,  as  the  Mosaic  law  brought  the  Jews  to  Christ; 
 and  to  this  day,  along  the  porticoes  of  Eastern  churches, 
 both  in  Greece  and  Russia,  are  to  be  seen  portrayed  on 
 the  walls  the  figures  of  Homer,  Thucydides,  Pythagoras 
 and  Plato,  as  pioneers  preparing  the  way  for  Christi- 
 anity. 
 
 As  Greek  had  been  in  the  East,  so  Latin  became 
 under  the  Roman  Empire  the  medium  through  which 
 literature,  science  and  wisdom  were  transferred  to  West- 
 ern Europe.  In  Spain  and  Gaul,  Latin  became  the 
 mother  tongue  and  the  laws  of  the  Western  Empire,  the 
 last  and  greatest  product  of  the  ancient  Roman  mind, 
 were  adopted  by  the  Gothic,  Lombard,  and  Carlovingian 
 dynasties.  What  at  first  had  been  a  Greek,  became  in 
 Western  Europe  a  Latin  religion.  A  new  Latin  version 
 of  the  Septuagint  and  of  the  original  New  Testament 
 superseded  the  time-honored  Greek,  and  Latin  became 
 indispensable  for  church  preferment. 
 
 In  the  Middle  Ages,  therefore,  Latin  was  made  the 
 groundwork  of  education,  because  it  was  the  language 
 of  the  educated  throughout  Western  Europe,  and  was 
 employed  for  public  business,  literature,  philosophy  and 
 science,  above  all,  by  God's  providence,  it  was  essential 
 
434  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 to  the  unit_v,  and  therefore  was  enforced  by  the  authority 
 of  the  Western  Church.. 
 
 This  then  brings  us  down  to  the  time  when  the 
 great  European  Universities  were  founded  and  some  of 
 them  were  at  the  meridian  of  their  glory,  where  the 
 Greek  and  the  Latin  were  taught  because  there  was 
 little  else  worthy  of  the  name  that  could  be  studied. 
 
 And  now  let  us  consider  some  of  the  arguments 
 which  may  be  adduced  in  favor  of  the  study  of  the 
 classics  in  our  schools  and  colleges  and  universities. 
 
 I.  In  the  first  place  it  greatly  aids  and  strengthens 
 the  memoiy.  The  learning  of  the  declensions  of  the 
 nouns,  pronouns  and  adjectives,  the  conjugations  of  the 
 verbs,  the  committing  to  memory  of  the  vocabularies, 
 and  phrases,  and  passages  from  famous  authors;  the  con- 
 stant necessity  of  acquiring  and  retaining  the  large  mass 
 of  historical,  geographical,  mythological  and  antiquarian 
 knowledge  necessary  to  a  correct  understanding  and  a 
 proper  appreciation  of  the  meaning  of  the  classical 
 authors,  (and  without  all  these  the  training  would  be 
 grossly  defective,)  all  afford  constant  practice  to  the 
 memory ,  and  therefore  greatly  develop  and  strengthen 
 that  faculty. 
 
 2.  In  even  greater  degree  it  cultivates  the  judg- 
 ment by  the  constant  investigation  of  the  appropriate 
 meaning  of  words,  and  of  the  exact  rendering  of 
 clauses  and  sentences  by  bringing  out  the  full  force  of 
 each  word  and  particle;  by  determining  from  the  elas- 
 ticity of  the  ancient  languages  the  exquisite  shades  of 
 thought  that  can  be  expressed  by  the  simple  change  of 
 the  arrangement  of  the  words  in  the  sentence;  in  the 
 comparison  of  rules  and  principles  with  examples  of 
 their  use,  and   of  different   passages   of  an    author  with 
 
LECTURE    OF     PROF.    FLEET.  435 
 
 parallel  passages  of  the  same,  or  of  different  authors  in 
 different  languages;  all  of  which  requires  discrimination 
 and  decision,  the  too  essential  factors  in  the  formation  of 
 a  correct  judgment. 
 
 3.  It  educates  the  analytical  faculty  by  encourag- 
 ing the  student  to  trace  words  to  their  ultimate  sources, 
 to  note  carefully  the  changes  undergone  in  different 
 combinations,  to  separate  compound  words  into  their 
 component  elements  and  discover  the  mutual  influence 
 of  the  parts,  to  dissect  sentences  and  to  put  them  togeth- 
 er again — many  of  them  involved  and  complicated — 
 with  clauses  whose  dependence  upon  each  other  are  not 
 at  once  obvious  and  in  which  the  words,  which  in  our 
 own  language  would  be  consecutive,  arc  often  widely 
 separated  trom  each  other  in  the  sentence. 
 
 4.  The  study  of  the  classics  cultivates  the  reason- 
 ing powers.  "Correct  syntax  is  nothing  but  a  correct 
 process  of  reasoning."  The  arrangement  of  words  and 
 sentences  in  accordance  with  certain  fixed  principles 
 must  correspond  with  the  reasoning  process  going  on 
 within  the  mind,  and  hence  the  study  of  syntax  must  be 
 a  constant  exercise  of  that  faculty.  Then,  too,  the  stu- 
 dent is  constantly  engaged  in  following  out  the  connec- 
 tion in  thought  between  different  clauses  and  sentences 
 and  paragraphs,  all  of  which  correspond  with  the  mental 
 processes  of  the  author  whose  works  he  studies.  And 
 if  we  remember  too  that  in  history,  philosophy  and 
 oratory,  the  classical  authors  afford  us  the  most  perfect 
 specimens  of  close  reasoning  which  any  literature  has 
 yet  produced,  we  will  clearly  see  how  greatly  a  close 
 and  minute  attention  to  these  models  will  tend  to  develop 
 and  expand  the  reason. 
 
 5.  It  will  be  acknowledged  on  every  hand,  except 
 perhaps    by   here   and   there   a   disciple    of   the   authors 
 
436  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 quoted  in  the  earlier  part  of  these  remarks,  that  classical 
 study  give  an  inexpressible  assistance  in  the  acquisition 
 of  other  languages,  and  great  precision  in  the  knowl- 
 edge of  our  mother  tongue. 
 
 Wer  fremde  Sprache  nicht  kennt, 
 Weisz  nichts  von  seiner  eignen. 
 
 "He  who  knows  no  foreign  tongue,  knows  nothing 
 of  his  own,"  says  the  acknowledged  master  of  German 
 literature.  What  can  give  a  better  exercise  in  discern- 
 ing the  exact  force  of  words  and  phrases,  and  of  cloth- 
 ing ideas  in  appropriate  dress — the  perfection  of  the 
 operation  of  the  faculty  of  language — than  the  careful 
 and  minute  study  of  the  complex  and  yet  perfectly  con- 
 structed sentences  of  the  best  Greek  and  Latin  authors, 
 and  the  daily  habit  of  analyzing  and  reconstructing 
 these  into  models  of  pure  and  idiomatic  English?  And 
 what  more  fully  cultivates  the  taste  than  this  method  of 
 translafion  and  composition  in  which  we  have  constantly 
 and  carefully  to  consider  how  the  exact  idiom  of  the 
 classical  languages  may  be  elegantly  expressed  in  our 
 own,  and  conversely  how  idiomatic  English  may  be 
 rendered  into  Greek  or  Latin — the  task  of  deciding  how 
 all  the  nice  distinctions  and  shades  of  thought  expressed 
 by  the  inflections  o(  one  language  may  be  rendered 
 without  loss  of  force  or  meaning  in  another — a  task  re- 
 quiring the  closest  discrimination  and  the  most  refined 
 taste  because  of  their  great  difference  from  our  own 
 language  in  structure  and  mode  of  expression. 
 
 6.  Nor  can  any  other  study  do  more  to  exercise 
 and  cultivate  the  imagination.  The  classics  contain 
 some  of  the  finest  works  of  the  imagination  which  the 
 world  has  seen,  and  the  length  of  time  which,  because 
 of  the  difficulty  of  the  language,  the  student  necessaaily 
 spends  in  acquiring  an  accurate  conception  of  their  con- 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  437 
 
 struction  and  meaning  affords  him  a  far  better  opportu- 
 nity of  imbibing  and  appreciating  the  imagery  or  senti- 
 ment than  if  he  had  hurried  through  them,  as  he  would 
 be  apt  to  do  in  case  of  his  own,  or  of  any  modern  lan- 
 guage, thus  losing  the  effect  of  the  development  which 
 such  close  and  long  application  would  afford. 
 
 There  are  many  other  arguments  besides  those  that 
 have  been  adduced  which  claim  our  attention.  Among 
 them,  one  which  has  been  carefully  elaborated  by  Dr. 
 Whewell  in  his  work  on  "Liberal  Education:" 
 
 The  Classics  are  an  indispensable  part  of  our  education  course 
 because  the}'  connect  us  with  the  intellectual  efforts  of  past  ages; 
 they  are  stamped,  as  it  were,  upon  the  history  of  the  civilized 
 world,  and  their  study  preserves  the  traditions  of  moral  and  intel- 
 lectual life;  and  true  nobility  of  intellect  consists  in  the  ability  to 
 trace  the  descent  of  ideas.  To  omit  the  study  of  the  classics  then 
 is  to  cut  us  off  from  the  experience  of  the  intellectual  world,  to 
 make  it  impossible  for  us  to  investigate  the  progress  of  the 
 thought  of  civilized  man,  and  to  destroy  what  may  not  inaptly  be 
 called  the  aristocratic  element  of  human  knowledge. 
 
 2.  Another  argument  is  based  upon  the  paramount 
 influence  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  mind  and  character 
 upon  our  civilization.  Mr.  Wm.  E.  Gladstone,  with 
 whose  name  we  are  all  familiar  as  one  of  the  ablest  of  a 
 noble  line  of  British  premiers,  and  whose  views  are  cer- 
 tainly entitled  to  consideration,  declares  it  as  his  opinion 
 that  classical  training  is  paramount,  not  simply  because 
 we  find  that  it  improves  memory,  or  taste,  or  gives  pre- 
 cision, or  developes  the  faculty  of  speech — "All  these," 
 says  he,  "are  but  partial  and  fragmentary  statements,  so 
 many  narrow  glimpses  of  a  great  and  comprehensive 
 truth."  "That  truth  he  takes  to  be  that  the  modern 
 European  civilization  from  the  middle  ages  downwards 
 is  the  compound  of  two  great  factors,  the  Christian  re- 
 ligion  for  the  spirit  of  man,  and  the   Greek  (and  in  a 
 
438  UNIVERSITY  OP  MISSOURI. 
 
 lesser  degree  the  Roman,)  discipline  for  his  mind  and 
 intellect.  *  *  "The  materials  of  what  we  call  classical 
 training  were  prepared,  and  we  have  a  right  to  say  were 
 advisedly  and  providentially  prepared,  in  order  that  it 
 might  become  not  a  mere  adjunct,  but  (in  mathematical 
 phrase)  the  complement  of  Christianity  in  its  applica- 
 tion to  the  culture  of  the  human  being,  as  a  being 
 formed  both  for  this  world  and  the  world  to  come." 
 
 In  the  same  train  of  thought  in  his  "Considerations 
 on  Representative  Government,"  Mr.  John  Stuart  Mill 
 observes  that  "The  Jews  jointly  with  the  Greeks  have 
 been  the  starting  point  and  main  propelling  agency  of 
 modern  civilization,"  and  M.  Guizot  in  his  "Meditations 
 on  Christianity"  endorses  the  same  view  and  declares 
 that  "Modern  civilization  is  in  effect  derived  from  the 
 Jews  and  from  the  Greeks.  To  the  latter  it  is  indebted 
 for  its  human  and  intellectual,  to  the  former  for  its  divine 
 and  moral  element."  The  fact  is  that  the  civilization  of 
 Modern  Europe,  and  secondarily  of  our  own  country,  is 
 so  interpenetrated  and  impregnated  by  classical  in- 
 fluences, its  human  element  is  so  entirely  derived  from 
 classical  sources,  that  its  nature  and  tendencies  cannot  be 
 rightly  understood  and  duly  estimated  without  a  knowl- 
 edge of  the  mental  productions,  the  civilization  and  the 
 inner  life  of  ancient  Greece  and  Rome. 
 
 3.  Another  argument  against  removing  the  class- 
 ics from  their  time-honored  place  is  that  the  intellectual 
 life  of  our  educated  classes  has  been  so  completely 
 formed  by  them,  and  that  our  whole  literature  has  been 
 so  interpenetrated  with  them,  that  it  is  impossible  for 
 one  who  is  not  a  scholar,  even  with  the  aid  of  labored 
 and  copious  annotations,  to  gain  a  just,  and  much  less  a 
 lively  and  limpid  conception  of  thousands  of  the  finest 
 passages   in   our  modern  prose  or   poetry.     If  any  one 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  489 
 
 doubts  this  let  him  open  for  example  the  "Paradise 
 Lost,"  and  read  a  half  dozen  pages  anywhere,  and  he 
 cannot  but  confess  that  this  opinion  is  well  founded.  So 
 full  and  constant  are  Milton's  allusions  to  classical  and 
 oriental  literature,  and  so  reverently  and  devoutly  does 
 he  imitate  those  ancient  models  in  whose  footsteps  he 
 was  proud  to  tread,  and  so  perpetually  would  we  be 
 obliged  to  recur  to  the  classics  that,  without  an  acquaint- 
 ance with  them  we  could  never  enter  into  the  spirit  of 
 the  author  or  comprehend  a  tithe  of  his  beauties — indeed 
 if  we  strip  Milton  of  his  translations  and  imitations  of 
 the  classics,  and  still  more  of  those  direct  and  distant  al- 
 lusions to  particular  thoughts  or  expressions  of  theirs,  he 
 will  be  found,  to  use  one  of  his  own  phrases,  "shorn  of 
 his  beams."  So  intertwined,  therefore,  are  all  the  mod- 
 ern classics  with  the  ancient  that  we  could  not  abandon 
 the  study  of  the  latter  without  a  great  shock  to  our 
 hereditary  system  of  thought,  and  opponents  of  the 
 classics  should  certainly  show  very  good  reasons  why 
 they  should  be  abandoned,  and  give  very  cogent  argu- 
 ments in  favor  of  those  studies  they  propose  to  put  in 
 their  stead. 
 
 4.  Another  argument  will  be  universally  recog- 
 nized, viz.,  that  a  knowledge  of  Greek  and  Latin  is 
 highly  advantageous  for  young  men  preparing  for  what 
 are  known  as  the  three  learned  professions,  law,  medi- 
 cine and  theologv.  The  text  books  and  the  works  of 
 reference  of  the  lawyer  are  full  of  Latin  expressions  left 
 untranslated  !  Many  of  the  greatest  works  on  Jurispru- 
 dence have  never  been  translated  from  that  tongue,  and 
 the  earliest  precedents  of  his  profession  are  in  the  Latin- 
 ized French  of  the  Normans,  all  of  which  must  remain 
 utterly  unintelligible  without  a  knowledge  of  the  Latin 
 language.     Classical  study   is  also  the  best,  if  not  an  in- 
 
440  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 dispensable  preparation  for  that  part  of  a  lawyer's  duty 
 which  involves  the  interpretation  of  constitutions, 
 statutes,  wills,  ordinances,  contracts,  and  indeed  of  legal 
 documents  of  every  description.  And  then,  too,  if  the 
 lawyer  aspires  to  eminence  in  his  profession,  and  even  to 
 the  ability  of  practicing  in  certain  courts  of  our  country, 
 and  to  a  systematic  knowledge  of  the  principles  consti- 
 tuting the  science  of  Jurisprudence,  he  must  of  necessity 
 be  able  to  hold  constant  communication  with  the  great 
 works  of  the  civil  law,  the  Justinian  code,  that  peerless 
 monument  of  juridical  wisdom,  which  he  will  find  still 
 locked  up  in  the  Roman  tongue. 
 
 So  in  the  medical  profession,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
 fact  that  without  a  knowledge  of  the  classics  the  stu- 
 dent cannot  avail  himself  of  the  writings  of  Hippocrates, 
 Celsus,  or  Galen — the  fathers  of  the  medical  science — 
 he  will  find  it  well  nigh  impossible  to  comprehend  and 
 remember  the  technical  terms  used  in  his  art.  How 
 simple  to  a  Greek  student,  for  example,  will  it  be  to  re- 
 member that  anatomy  is  "the  doctrine  of  the  structure 
 of  an  organized  substance,  learned  by  dissection,"  when 
 he  recollects  that  anatcmnein  is  to  cut  up.  Or  that  physi- 
 ology from  fthnsis,  nature,  and  logos,  a  discussion,  treats 
 of  organs  and  their  functions.  Or  that  hypcraesthesia 
 from  hufier,  over,  and  aisthanesthai,  to  feel,  means  an 
 over  amount  of  sensibility ;  while  an  anaesthetic  is  some- 
 thing given  to  produce  insensibility.  That  anaemia,  is 
 want  of  blood,  hemorrhage  is  the  bursting  of  blood  ves- 
 sels, while  malanaemia,  for  which  he  would  vainly  look 
 in  Webster's  Unabridged,  any  Greek  sub-freshman  could 
 tell  him  comes  from  melas,  black  and  haima,  blood, 
 and  denotes  an  excess  of  venous  blood.  Or  how 
 will  he  feel  when  the  learned  physican  whom  he  calls  in 
 for  consultation   gravely  announces   that   "having    care- 
 
LECTURE    OF   PROF.    FLEET.  441 
 
 fully  considered  the  pathology  as  well  as  the  aetiology  of 
 the  disease,  he  has  arrived  at  the  solemn  conclusion  that 
 the  patient  is  suffering  from  leucocy-thaemea,  superin- 
 duced by  a  chronic  torpidity  of  the  chylopoietic  organs, 
 and  that  he  would  advise  a  hypodermic  insertion  of  some 
 ferruginous  compound!" 
 
 And  in  the  profession  of  theology,  which  Sir  Wm. 
 Hamilton  has  defined  to  be  substantially,  "applied  phi- 
 lology and  criticism,"  no  one  who  has  not  received  a 
 thorough  classical  training  can  reach  the  highest  stan- 
 dard of  theological  attainment.  Do  they  not  know  that 
 all  the  works  of  the  early  fathers  of  the  Christian  church, 
 all  the  productions  of  the  Mediaeval  theologians,  and 
 that  many  of  the  masterpieces  of  comparatively  mod- 
 ern divines,  such  as  Turretin  and  Calvin,  are  written  in 
 the  languages  of  Greece  or  Rome,  and  hence  are  sealed 
 books  to  those  who  have  no  classical  culture?  When  we 
 add  to  this,  that  an  accurate  acquaintance  with  the  man- 
 ners, customs,  institutions  and  literatures  of  Greece  and 
 Rome  is  indispensable  for  the  correct  understanding  and 
 explanation  of  many  of  the  figures  and  allusions  in  the 
 New  Testament  and  other  ancient  theological  writings; 
 and  for  tracing  out  the  influence  of  Christianity  upon  the 
 civilized  races  with  which  it  came  in  contact,  and  in  in- 
 vestigating its  effect  in  reforming  and  renewing  the  ele- 
 ments of  human  society,  what  shall  we  say  of  the 
 nepohytes  who  madly  "rush  in  where  angels  fear  to 
 tread,"  and  who  undertake  to  instruct  others  in  Chris- 
 tian doctrine  when  they  are  themselves  unable  to  inter- 
 pret the  original  writings  in  which  the  Sacred  Oracles 
 have  been  handed  down  to  us? 
 
 Another  argument  in  behalf  of  the  classics  is  the 
 intrinsic  value  of  the  literature  of  Greece  and  Rome. 
 It  may  be  truly  said  that  that  literature  contains  some  of 
 
442  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 the  most  inspiring  poetry,  the  most  fervid  eloquence,  the 
 most  profound  philosophy,  and  the  wisest  and  most  im- 
 partial history.  And  indeed  without  attempting  to  draw 
 a  comparison  between  the  classical  and  modern  litera- 
 tures, no  unprejudiced  person  can  decline  to  grant  that 
 the  languages  in  which  Homer  and  Virgil  composed 
 their  epics,  Demosthenes  and  Cicero  uttered  their  ora- 
 tions, and  Thucydides  and  Tacitus  wrote  their  histories, 
 are  eminently  worthy  of  diligent  study  ior  the  sake  of 
 the  literary  treasures  of  which  they  arc  the  key.  To 
 Greek  this  argument  applies  with  special  force.  In  it  are 
 found  the  earliest  examples  of  epic,  and  dramatic  poe- 
 try, and  perhaps  the  most  perfect  and  elaborate  speci- 
 mens of  the  drama  which  we  possess;  in  it  were  written 
 histories  not  only  the  oldest,  if  we  except  the  sacred 
 ones,  which  have  been  handed  down  to  us,  but  also  un- 
 surpassed if  not  unrivalled  by  any  of  the  histories  of  the 
 modern  times;  it  was  the  language  of  the  greatest  ora- 
 tor which  the  world  ever  produced;  in  it  wrote  the  mas- 
 ters of  logic,  metaphysics,  moral  and  political  philoso- 
 phy to  all  succeeding  generations;  men  unexcelled  by 
 their  pupils,  with  all  the  increased  experience  of  two 
 thousand  years;  in  it  were  composed  the  inspired  rec- 
 ords of  Christianity — records  which  are  the  basis  of  the 
 Christian  faith,  and  the  guide  of  the  individual  christian 
 in  all  that  concerns  his  spiritual  and  eternal  welfare. 
 
 For  the  American  scholar  and  statesman  also,  what 
 school  can  be  found  like  the  study  of  the  Grecian  and 
 the  Roman  republics  and  what  errors  may  our  country 
 in  the  future  escape  by  noting  carefully  and  avoiding  the 
 rocks  upon  which  the}'  were  broken  into  pieces?  To 
 none  is  classical  study  more  essential  than  to  us  as  Amer- 
 icans, for,  as  De  Tocqueville  has  said,  "No  literature 
 places  those  fine  qualities  in  which  the  writers  of  democ- 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  44S 
 
 racies  are  naturally  deficient,  in  bolder  relief,  than  that 
 of  the  ancients;  no  literature  therefore  ought  to  be  more 
 studied  in  democratic  times." 
 
 Another  argument  for  maintaining  the  prominence 
 of  the  ancient  languages  and  their  literatures  in  educa- 
 tion, though  not  often  noticed  in  the  discussion  of  the 
 question,  is  the  superiority  of  the  books  of  instruction  in 
 this  department  of  knowledge  to  those  offered  as  substi- 
 tutes. The  student  of  Greek,  for  example,  from  his 
 first  step  onward,  "finds  himself  walking  in  paths  which 
 have  been  trodden  by  acute  and  cultivated  intellects  for 
 centuries.  He  is  under  their  guidance,  in  communion 
 with  their  thoughts,  stimulated  in  every  step  to  exercise 
 an  independent  judgment,  yet  cherished  in  every  im- 
 pulse to  wild  or  hasty  reasoning  by  their  united  authority. 
 The  books  with  which  he  becomes  familiar  are  not 
 hastv  outlines  of  the  present  state  of  some  science,  likely 
 to  be  superseded  at  any  time  as  the  science  itself  may 
 undergo  a  revolution  by  some  single  discovery.  The 
 great  body  of  classical  scholarship  has  continued  for  at 
 least  ten  generations  to  be  the  common  heritage  of  intel- 
 ligent minds,  steadily  growing  in  mass,  in  perfection  of 
 form,  in  finish  of  detail,  every  change  of  new  acquisi- 
 tion increasing  the  value  of  that  already  secured. 
 
 One  serious  obstacle  to  the  successful  study  of  the 
 classics  is  the  habit  of  going  over  in  the  early  part  of 
 the  course  especially,  of  too  much  ground  in  a  given 
 short  period  of  time.  The  preparatory  course  being 
 the  first  effort  of  the  pupil  to  a  critical  study  of  lan- 
 guage, any  defect  in  it  preventing  the  formation  of  right 
 habits  of  study,  or  giving  a  wrong  bias  to  it,  may  be  fa- 
 tal to  the  future  success  of  the  student.  Where  there  is 
 so  much  to  do,  and  so  little  time  in  which  to  do  it,  there 
 is  every  temptation  to  do  the  work  superficially.    In  this 
 
444  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 most  emphatically,  haste  makes  waste.  There  is  no 
 place  here  for  mere  cramming;  but  the  student  must 
 take  time  to  investigate  and  see  that  his  way  is  clear  at 
 every  step,  to  reason  and  compare,  to  adjust  delicate 
 questions,  to  get  well-defined  ideas  before  moving  on- 
 ward. Many  a  student,  hurrying  rapidly  over  the 
 ground  with  no  time  to  imbibe  the  spirit  and  beauty  of 
 what  he  is  studying,  without  strengthening  his  memory, 
 refining  his  taste,  quickening  his  perception  or  invigor- 
 ating his  reasoning  faculties,  loses  all  interest  in  the  study 
 and  confidence  in  himself,  becomes  discouraged  and  de- 
 moralized, and  charges  to  the  classics  the  failure  which 
 should  rather  belong  to  his  own  hasty  and  confused  and 
 ill-directed  manner  of  studying  them. 
 
 If  on  the  other  hand  he  begins  aright  by  learning 
 the  symbols  of  the  language,  the  words,  with  their 
 roots,  their  comparative  etymology  as  traced  through  all 
 the  cognate  tongues  of  which  he  may  know  something, 
 their  forms  and  all  their  changes  with  the  reasons  there- 
 for; the  force  of  moods,  tenses,  and  voices;  the  ar- 
 rangement of  words  and  sentences;  the  reason  for  one 
 position  rather  than  another,  the  general  laws  of  agree- 
 ment and  construction;  the  comparison  of  the  Latin 
 with  the  Greek,  and  both  with  other  languages; — if 
 then  he  goes  forward  with  higher  topics,  to  the  finished 
 translation  of  the  author  he  reads,  the  study  of  syno- 
 nyms, antiquities,  mythology,  the  manners  and  customs 
 of  his  day,  the  prominent  subjects  of  thought  at  the 
 time  of  the  writing,  and  the  peculiar  circumstances 
 which  gave  coloring  to  the  writer's  views;  the  logic, 
 rhetoric,  oratory  and  poetry;  the  history  and  civiliza- 
 tion, the  science,  politics,  philosophy  and  religion  of 
 the  times;  the  connection  between  the  past  and  the 
 present — in  a  word,  all   that  a  language  contains,  every- 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  445 
 
 thing  that  will  serve  to  photograph  in  his  mind  the 
 strange  and  busy  scenes  of  the  past;  the  thinkers  and 
 actors  in  their  surroundings,  and  to  make  him  a  con- 
 scious sharer  in  the  movements  of  a  world  so  different 
 from  his  own — if,  we  say,  a  student  goes  forward  semes- 
 ter after  semester  in  the  investigation  of  subjects  like 
 these,  treading  with  a  surer  and  firmer  step  as  he  ad- 
 vances, he  will  find  himself  constantly  entering  new 
 fields  of  thought  and  enquiry,  and  will  discover  each 
 day  new  beauties  and  attractions  in  the  compositions  of 
 the  great  masters  of  antiquity,  will  never  be  careless  or 
 listless  in  the  study  so  conducted,  nor  complain  that  he 
 learns  little  new  year  after  year  except  the  cold  and  dry 
 rules  of  syntax. 
 
 And  finally  what  more  shall  I  say  to  impress  you 
 more  fully  with  the  importance,  nay  the  absolute  neces- 
 sity of  classical  study  in  order  that  you  young  ladies  and 
 gentlemen  may  reach  the  ideal  of  true  scholarship  to 
 which  you  aspire?  Need  I  quote  from  Victor  Cousin, 
 the  master  philosophical  mind  of  France,  when  he  says 
 "that  these  studies  are  in  truth  beyond  comparison  the 
 most  essential  of  them  all;  conducting,  as  they  do,  to 
 the  knowledge  of  human  nature  which  they  bring  us  to 
 consider  under  all  its  variety  of  aspects  and  relations;  at 
 one  time  in  the  language  and  literature  of  nations  who 
 have  left  behind  them  traces  of  their  existence  and 
 glory;  at  another,  in  the  frequent  vicissitudes  of  history 
 which  continually  renovate  and  improve  society;  and 
 finally,  in  the  philosophy  which  reveals  to  us  the  simple 
 elements  and  the  uniform  organization  of  that  wondrous 
 being  whom  history,  literature  and  language  successfully 
 clothe  in  forms  the  most  diversified,  and  yet  always 
 bearing  on  some  more  or  less  important  part  of  his  in- 
 ternal constitution.     Classical  studies  maintain  the  sacred 
 
446  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 traditions  of  the  intellectual  and  moral  life  of  our 
 species.  To  cripple,  far  more,  to  destroy  them,  would 
 in  my  eyes  be  an  act  of  barbarism,  an  audacious  attempt 
 to  arrest  true  civilization,  a  sort  of  high  treason  against 
 humanity." 
 
 Or  of  Sir  William  Hamilton,  the  acknowledged 
 metaphysician  of  his  age,  who  declares  that  "The  study 
 of  ancient  literature,  if  properly  directed,  is  absolutely 
 the  best  means  for  the  harmonious  development  of  the 
 faculties,  the  one  end  of  all  liberal  education." 
 
 Or  of  Dr.  William  Smith,  the  English  antiquarian 
 and  historian :  "I  hope  the  day  is  far  distant  when  the 
 study  of  classical  literature  will  cease  to  be  essential  to 
 the  education  of  the  English  gentleman;  and  that  what- 
 ever changes,  in  this  reforming  age,  may  be  made  in 
 our  universities  and  public  schools,  classical  literature 
 will  stand  as  the  foundation  on  which  every  thing  else  is 
 based.  For  whether  we  regard  the  language  as  a  means 
 of  sharpening  the  intellectual  faculties,  or  the  literature 
 as  a  means  of  elevating  and  purifying  the  taste,  it  would 
 be  easy  to  show  that  no  subject  could  take  their  place  or 
 accomplish  the  objects  which  they  effect." 
 
 Or  of  Macaulay,  in  his  beautiful  apostrophe  to  the 
 literature  of  Greece:  "From  that  splendid  literature 
 have  sprung  all  the  strength,  the  wisdom,  the  freedom, 
 and  the  glory  of  the  Western  World.  *  *  What  shall 
 we  say  when  we  reflect  that  from  hence  have  sprung 
 directly  or  indirectly,  all  the  noblest  creations  of  the 
 human  intellect;  that  from  hence  were  the  vast  accom- 
 plishments and  the  brilliant  fancy  of  Cicero,  the  wither- 
 ing fire  of  Juvenal,  the  plastic  imagination  of  Dante, 
 the  humor  of  Cervantes,  the  comprehension  of  Bacon, 
 the  wit  of  Butler,  the  supreme  and  universal  excellence 
 of  Shakspeare?     All  the  triumphs  of  truth   and  genius 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  447 
 
 over  prejudice  and  power,  in  every  country  and  in  every 
 age,  have  been  the  triumphs  of  Athens." 
 
 Or  of  our  own  countryman,  Edward  Everett,  who 
 says,  "There  are  other  advantages  besides  the  intrinsic 
 merit  of  the  ancient  Classics  amply  sufficient  to  repay  us 
 for  devoting  a  few  years  to  the  study  of  Greek  and 
 Latin.  We  know  no  kind  of  labor  so  well  adapted  to 
 the  general  improvement  of  the  faculties  in  early  youth." 
 Orol  Professor  Moses  Stuart,  the  foremost  American 
 scholar  of  his  time:  "Is  the  pursuit  of  classical  literature 
 worth  the  time  expended  on  it?  From  the  deepest  and 
 fullest  convictions  of  my  heart,  I  answer,  Yes.  I  would 
 I  could  answer  so  loud  as  to  be  heard  in  every  part  of 
 my  country.  I  have  never  yet  engaged  in  any  exercise 
 which  afforded  more  salutary  discipline  than  that  of 
 translating  difficult  passages  from  a  foreign  language; 
 *  *  and  I  am  certain  that  few  of  my  hours  have  been 
 spent  to  better  purpose  in  their  influence  over  the  habits 
 of  the  mind." 
 
 The  time  would  fail  me  if  I  attempted  to  give  the 
 views  of  such  eminent  thinkers  and  educators  as  Dr. 
 McCosh  of  Princeton,  Presidents  Porter  and  Elliott  of 
 Yale  and  Harvard,  with  a  noble  company  of  others  ac- 
 knowledged by  all  the  world  as  being  at  the  head  of 
 European  and  American  scholarship,  who  with  one  ac- 
 cord and  in  no  doubtful  voice  declare  in  clarion  notes,, 
 that  come  what  may,  the  Classics  must  not,  shall  not  go! 
 
VIEWS  ON  THE  STUDY  OF  LANGUAGE. 
 
 By  Prof.  J.  S.  Blackwell,  Professor  of  the  Se- 
 mitic Languages  and  Literature  in  the  Uni- 
 versity of  Missouri. 
 
 Of  the  studies  which  challenge  the  attention  and 
 call  forth  the  energies  of  the  youth  of  our  generation, 
 there  is  a  present  tendency  to  a  dual  classification, — a 
 classification  arbitrary,  illogical  and  unscientific.  The 
 Sciences  on  the  one  hand,  (the  term  being  limited  to  the 
 various  departments  of  Natural  History,  on  account  of 
 the  preponderant  importance  of  its  vast  performances) 
 and  the  languages  on  the  other,  find  their  respective  ad- 
 vocates and  enthusiasts.  The  ulterior  purpose  of  both  is 
 the  same:  to  discover  in  the  universe  of  the  knowable 
 that  elusive  truth  that  moves  between  light  and  dark- 
 ness, to  fix  its  orbit,  and  describe  its  path;  to  unify  the 
 diverse,  and  harmonize  apparently  conflicting  forces 
 whether  in  the  realm  of  nature  or  in  the  multitudinous 
 manifestations  of  mental  action.  The  actual  supple- 
 ments the  potential;  by  labor  in  the  one  branch  of  study 
 we  increase  the  wealth  and  material  comfort,  enlarge 
 the  sphere,  promote  the  longevity  and  enhance  the 
 civilization  of  the  individual  man;  in  the  other,  we  take 
 hold  of  man  in  his  prime  differential  faculty,  dissect  the 
 
450  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 body  of  reason  in  speech,  reveal  the  psychological 
 unity  of  the  human  race,  catch  the  faint  murmur  of 
 man's  ante-historical  lispings,  increase  our  power  of  ex- 
 pression, gain  larger  combinations  for  the  laboratory  of 
 the  imagination,  and  push  farther  on  the  horizon  that 
 skirts  the  border  land  of  the  discoverable.  It  is  not  my 
 aim  to  decry  the  one  and  unduly  to  elevate  the  other  of 
 these  noble  explorers  in  their  expedition  into  the  Land 
 of  Promise.  Indeed,  such  a  course  would  be  nugatory 
 and  futile.  Both  studies  are  necessary  factors  in  the 
 product  of  finished  education.  We  may  well  have  rea- 
 son to  pronounce  that  the  time  is  not  near,  as  presaged 
 by  the  able  editor  of  the  Popular  Science  Monthly, 
 when  educators  will  be  compelled  to  elect  between  the 
 Sciences  and  the  Languages,  as  to  which  shall  occupy  a 
 paramount  place  in  the  schools.  The  statement  is  an 
 outgrowth  of  that  intense  utilitarian  frenzy  which  is 
 now  prevalent  throughout  the  world.  A  thing  to  com- 
 mend itself  to  the  mind  of  this  age  must  evidence  to  a 
 complete  demonstration  some  practical  results.  We 
 cease  to  take  delight  in  unsubstantial  abstractions  and  to 
 risk  our  lives  in  the  support  of  inane  and  issueless  spec- 
 ulation. Realism  and  Nominalism  wage  no  more  wars. 
 The  problem  of  education  belongs  to  the  people,  and 
 they  will  solve  it  to  productive  results.  But  in  their  in- 
 tense love  of  the  practical,  they  cannot  lose  sight  of  the 
 genuine  elements  which  constitute  practicalness.  Prac- 
 tical education  does  not  altogether  consist  in  the  ability 
 to  guide  a  plow  along  a  furrow,  to  wield  a  hoe,  brandish 
 an  axe,  carve  with  tools,  or  in  being  merely  skillful  in 
 the  mechanical  arts.  Dexterity  in  these  is  compatible 
 with  a  great  amount  of  stupidity  and  ignorance.  Clearly, 
 practical  education  cannot  leave  out  of  view  the  discip- 
 lining  of  the   mental  faculties,  the   acquisition   of  useful 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.  451 
 
 knowledge  and  of  the  power  of  expression.  Practical- 
 ness connotes  a  condition  of  mental  improvement,  such 
 that  the  individual  shall  be  able  to  recognize  the  aims 
 and  the  objects  of  action,  and  to  apply  the  proper  aids  in 
 all  circumstances  that  may  arise,  with  promptness  and 
 energy.  It  demands  the  possession  of  ideas,  and  a  rea- 
 sonable amount  of  knoweldge. 
 
 Now,  knowledge  can  be  acquired  in  but  one  defi- 
 nite and  precise  way,  and  that  is,  by  language.  No  one 
 will  contend  that  the  vocabulary  acquired  at  the  mother's 
 knee,  will  subserve  the  highest  ends  of  lite,  nor  that  the 
 paucity  of  ideas  struggling  through  into  a  mind  wholly 
 occupied  with  the  labor  of  learning  to  read  and  write  in 
 common-school  education,  will  full  up  the  blank.  That 
 a  student  may  appropriate  and  assimilate  ideas,  he  must 
 have  a  full  consciousness  of  the  language  expressing 
 those  ideas,  and  to  understand  language,  he  must  study 
 the  body  of  Language  itself.  To  study  the  body  of 
 Language  he  must  have  recourse  to  its  original  sources. 
 Hence,  the  English  student  is  driven  in  spite  of  all  pre- 
 conceptions to  the  study  of  the  Latin  tongue,  without 
 which  our  language  and  our  literature  would  bean  enig- 
 ma at  which  the  fabled  sphynx  would  have  guessed  in 
 vain.  It  is  by  persistent  study  of  language  that  we 
 reach  the  thought  which  has  its  living  exponent  in  the 
 word.  Language  is  not  the  vesture  of  thought,  not  a 
 magic  armor  that  flexibly  fits  the  thought,  whether  small 
 or  great,  nor  is  it  thought's  correlative;  it  is  thought 
 itself  symbolized  in  sound.  Thought  and  language  are 
 only  logically  separable.  He  who  cannot  speak,  whether 
 in  words,  or  in  the  dumb  show  of  finger  language,  can- 
 not think.  "To  think  is  to  speak  low,  to  speak  is  to 
 think  aloud."  Children  who  speak  are  not  conscious  of 
 the  syllables  they  utter.     They  are  like  pigmies  parad- 
 
452  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 ing  in  a  giant's  garments;  like  puny  riders  seizing  the 
 ocean's  mane.  Now,  if  a  proper  understanding  be  the 
 first  element  of  progress  in  education,  (and  who  can  deny 
 it?)  we  must  make  our  starting-point  in  seeking  to  ac- 
 quire the  significance  of  words.  To  do  this  nothing  is  so 
 convenient  as  translation,  and  nothing  so  essential  as 
 translation  from  the  originals  of  our  English  speech*  We 
 thus  become  familiar  with  the  inmost  intent  of  the  words 
 which  we  employ,  rise  to  a  consciousness  of  the  powers 
 with  which  we  are  dealing,  grow  as  giants  to  fill  a 
 giant's  garments  and  toy  with  the  mane  of  steed  that  its 
 rider  knows. 
 
 The  proper  use  of  language  and  the  ability  to  em- 
 ploy it  effectively  are  the  qualities  which  constitute  emi- 
 nence, not  only  in  the  lawyer,  the  orator,  the  statesman, 
 the  poet,  the  rhetorician,  the  teacher,  the  clergyman,  but 
 also  the  successful  business  man.  The  man  who  cannot 
 talk  if  he  will,  cannot  think  if  he  will.  Poverty  of  lan- 
 guage means  poverty  of  thought.  No  one  ever  yet 
 really  knew  anything  that  he  could  not  tell.  He  may 
 utter  it  in  hesitating,  stammering  speech,  or  he  may 
 phrase  it  in  the  easy  precise  and  thunderous  eloquence  of 
 a  Burke.  The  difference  in  the  language  arises  from  a 
 difference  in  the  amplitude  of  thought,  and  practicalness 
 of  education — the  one's  thought  being  the  faint,  blurred 
 caricature  of  an  awkward  and  untutored  mind,  the 
 other's,  the  living,  breathing  picture  sketched  by  a  deft 
 and  skillful  brain.  An  ignorant  man  may  have  seen 
 the  greatest  wonders  of  the  world,  its  towering  mountain 
 chains  and  snow-clad  peaks,  its  golden  sunsets,  its  rolling 
 oceans  heaving  in  tremendous  billows,  its  works  of  art, 
 glorious  in  beauty,  its  heaped-up  treasures,  and  its  gor- 
 geous palaces,  and  be  able  to  say  in  description  of  it  all, 
 that   it  was  all  "mighty  fine."     The   hero   in    Southev's 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.  453 
 
 poem  of  the  Battle  of  Blenheim,  the  old  man  who  had 
 met  the  foe  in  the  shock  of  conflict,  could  say  naught 
 else  of  the  signal  triumph  than  that  "it  was  a  glorious 
 victory;"  much  as  Jefferson  Jones  wrote  the  history  of 
 our  late  war  in  the  concise  manner  peculiar  to  men  with 
 remarkable  inaptitude  for  thought  and  speech  in  the 
 nervous  declaration  that  "it  was  a  powerful  skeery  time." 
 The  great  Schopenhauer  stands  sponsor  to  the 
 thought  "  that  he  who  does  not  know  foreign  tongues 
 walks  through  this  world  in  a  fog."  It  is  not  meant 
 that  the  knowledge  of  languages,  as  children  learn 
 them,  necessarily  implies  consequent  mental  develop- 
 ment. Mental  culture  does  not  necessarily  come  with 
 speaking  many  languages.  Many  a  druggists'  clerk, 
 and  many  a  bar-tender,  has  a  facile  tongue  in  four  or 
 five  languages,  and  yet  has  never  heard  of  "  parts  of 
 speech"  and  "grammatical  accidence."  Language  learnt 
 without  effort,  without  reflection,  without  self-conscious- 
 ness, make  quite  a  different  accomplishment  from  lan- 
 guage learnt  by  the  slow  process  of  grammatical  and 
 lexical  training  in  which  the  critical  powers,  the  faculty 
 of  discrimination,  of  taste,  and  of  judgment,  the  highest 
 powers  of  the  human  mind,  are  evoked  and  enlisted 
 from  the  start.  And  herein  lies  an  insurmountable  ob- 
 jection to  the  so-called  "  Natural  Method  "  of  instruction 
 in  languages  which  claims  to  have  hewn  out  and  paved 
 a  royal  road  to  learning  and  to  reach  the  longed-for  goal 
 with  lightning  speed.  The  memorizing  of  long  strings 
 of  words  and  expressions  is  a  very  different  thing  from 
 the  exercise  of  reason.  A  student  in  the  primary  de- 
 partment of  our  academies  could  take  a  position  above  a 
 Grecian  sage  in  certain  memorized  points  of  to-day's  fa- 
 miliar knowledge,  but  would  not  have  a  millionth  part 
 of  the   mental    power   that    burned  in    the  brain   of  an 
 
454  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 Aristotle.  The  one's  facts  are  mere  matters  of  memory, 
 mere  word-labels  ticketed  with  sounds  unrealized  in 
 consciousness;  the  other's  trained  intelligence  could  pour 
 a  steady  ray  upon  the  most  recondite  and  baffling  ques- 
 tions, peer  with  Jove-like  prescience  into  the  probabil- 
 ities of  the  future  and  adumbrate  their  history ;  the  one's 
 short  steps  cannot  compass  a  manly  gait,  the  other  be- 
 strides the  world  of  thought  like  a  huge  Colossus. 
 
 The  apprenticeship  to  knowledge  in  any  depart- 
 ment is  slow  and  painful,  even  when  ambition  fires  the 
 youthful  soul,  and  the  midnight  lamp  glares  upon  the 
 studious  page.  If  the  student  would  handle  his  mind, 
 and  turn  it  about  to  his  purposes  with  rapidity,  direct- 
 ness and  effectiveness,  he  must  resolutely  scourge  him- 
 self to  his  task  and  carve  again  at  the  granite  block  of 
 unwilling  destiny.  In  a  word  he  must  submit  to  the 
 routine  which  educators  have  wisely  established.  If  ed- 
 ucators yield  to  popular  clamor,  and  remodel  the  time- 
 honored  course  of  study  in  obedience  to  inexperience 
 and  thoughtlessness,  we  shall  soon  find  that  the  so-called 
 "practically"  educated  have  little,  if  any  education  at  all, 
 and  are  turned  out  of  college  upon  society  in  that  vealy 
 stage  of  semi-ignorance  which  prompts  to  butt  at  im- 
 possibilities and  to  toss  gorgeous  nothings  en  its  sprout- 
 ing horns.  The  dangers  of  half-knowledge  are  many 
 and  insidious.  It  opens  the  mind  to  depressing  doubts, 
 groundless  fears,  and  gloomy  superstitions.  It  has 
 deluged  the  world  in  blood  and  raised  man}'  a  pyramid 
 of  ghastly  skulls.  It  has  laid  its  spectral  hand  upon  the 
 sacred  altar  oi  religion.  It  has  blasted  the  unit}"  of  faith, 
 and  filled  the  world  with  the  fragments  of  broken 
 creeds.  It  scowls  in  dark  suspicion,  gloats  on  revenge, 
 and  riots  with  the  ghouls  of  crime  and  death.  It  hurls 
 its  portents  into  the   councils  of  knowledge,  and  befouls 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.  455 
 
 the  feast  of  reason  with  its  harpy  fingers.  It  forebodes 
 disaster,  croaks  defeat,  and  raises  from  the  sea  of  every 
 adventure  a  shadowy  giant  hand. 
 
 We  may  be  very  sure  that  the  prevalence  among 
 educators  of  such  convictions  as  1  have  outlined  will  in 
 the  future  as  in  the  past  bring  multitudes  of  souls  fam- 
 ishing for  knowledge  to  slake  their  thirst  at  the  open 
 fountains  of  ancient  lore. 
 
 But  there  is  a  large  body  of  old  literature  which 
 merits  attention  and  investigation  on  many  grounds. 
 From  a  literary  point  of  view  the  claims  of  the  Semitic 
 languages  are  not  to  be  lightly  esteemed.  Many  of 
 their  performances  are  equal  if  not  superior  to  the 
 sublimest  compositions  of  Greece  and  Rome — at  least,  in 
 the  treatment  of  the  productions  of  feeling  and  of  fact. 
 The  Semitic  peoples  were  inferior  to  their  western  con- 
 temporaries in  point  of  versatility  of  genius.  To  the 
 former,  the  plastic  arts,  except  in  their  grosser  material- 
 istic elements,  were  unknown.  The  canvas  of  Apelles 
 and  the  superb  creations  of  Phidias  would  have  awak- 
 ened in  the  stern  and  sedate  Semite  only  the  affections 
 of  abhorrence  and  contempt.  That  abhorrence,  unborn 
 and  frenzied,  was  realized  in  action  whenever  and 
 wherever,  under  the  proclamation  of  Islam,  a  Semitic 
 hand  could  shiver  with  a  battle-axe,  or  a  Semitic  scime- 
 ter  efface  and  destroy.  The  kindred  art  of  poetry,  the 
 realization  of  the  exquisite  creations  of  the  soul,  could 
 rouse  the  sober  enthusiasm  of  this  grave  and  majestic 
 people.  No  Grecian  lyre  could  sound  the  strings  to 
 softer  raptures  than  could  the  tuneful  harp  of  the  son  of 
 Jesse.  No  tenderer  ditties  could  swell  the  lover's  heart 
 with  fond  desire  than  were  intoned  by  the  dusky 
 Anacreons  and  the  rhythmic  Horaces  of  the  pre-islamic 
 deserts.     No  pastoral   redolent    with  dewy    thyme    and 
 
456  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 grassy  Italian  meadows  could  recall  fonder  glories  of 
 earth  and  sky  and  mountain  than  the  rural  strains  of  the 
 rose  of  Sharon  and  the  lily  of  the  valley.  No  more 
 awful  grandeur,  no  more  terrible  symbols  of  obscurity 
 and  darkness,  vastness  and  solitude,  wrath  and  power, 
 startle  from  the  page  of  Aeschylus  than  mutter  in  the 
 sombre  imagery  of  Job,  and  flash  in  lurid  lightnings 
 from  the  solemn  gloom  of  Isaiah.  There  is  no  Semitic 
 Homer.  Among  a  people  always  incapable  of  compact 
 military  organization,  the  "delight  of  the  warrior" 
 found  no  responsive  echo.  But  the  songs  of  Miriam 
 and  Deborah,  with  their  noble  martial  air,  and  even  the 
 petty  campaigns  of  Saul  and  David  chanted  in  the 
 proud  extravagance  of  the  Israelitish  maidens  who  came 
 forth  to  meet  them  with  tabret  and  with  harp,  have  the 
 true  heroic  ring.  Extended  composition  such  as  is  re- 
 quired in  epic  poetry  with  its  relentless  unities  was  im- 
 possible to  the  Semite,  so  long  as  the  verse  with  its  sen- 
 tentious paragraphs  was  de  rigeur  in  every  kind  of  lit- 
 erature. The  dread  tyranny  of  the  verse  rules  from  the 
 Pentateuch  to  the  Koran,  nay,  until  the  conquests  of 
 Islam  brought  the  Muslim  in  contact  with  Grecian  civi- 
 lization and  Grecian  culture.  It  was  then  among  the 
 scholars  of  Edessa  and  Baghdad,  of  Egypt  and  Cordova 
 that  the  subtle  abstractions  of  Plato  and  the  dialectics  of 
 Aristotle  won  the  conquerors  of  the  world  to  metaphys- 
 ical research.  The  Semitic  mind,  simple  and  pure, 
 knew  nothing  of  the  drama,  of  wit  and  humor,  of 
 grammar,  mathematics,  physics,  technology,  medicine, 
 bibliography  and  scholastic  theology.  Herodotus  has 
 been  called  the  father  of  history.  But  long  before  the 
 simple  tale  of  the  Halicarnassian  challenged  the  ap- 
 plause of  the  assembled  athletes  of  the  Panhellenic 
 world,  one  learned  in   all  the   wisdom  of  the  Egyptians 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.  457 
 
 had  penned  the  scroll  of  inspiration.  The  story  of 
 plain  facts  is  plainly  told,  "simple  in  its  neatness,"  direct 
 in  its  truth,  ungarnished  by  any  art,  single  in  its  purpose, 
 comprehensive  in  its  humanity,  and  pathetic  in  its  epi- 
 sodes. It  has  been  the  singular  fortune  of  the  Hebrew 
 literature  to  be  the  prose  and  the  poetry  of  mankind. 
 Thousands  who  have  known  and  know  no  other  litera- 
 ture have  lived  and  are  living  in  the  world,  and  some  of 
 them,  like  Bunyan,  have  made  their  ineffaceable  marks 
 upon  the  ages.  The  hills  and  the  valleys  of  Palestine, 
 its  brooks  and  its  seas,  its  mountains  and  groves,  its  cities 
 and  towns  are  familiar  spots  to  the  readers  of  two  hun- 
 dred and  fifty-five  languages.  Its  idioms  and  its  meta- 
 phors, its  parables  and  its  allegories,  its  word-plays  and 
 its  poetic  parallelisms   are  the  common  literary  heritage 
 
 of  our  common  humanitv. 
 
 j 
 
 A  discussion  of  the  respective  literary  claims  of  dif- 
 ferent nations  naturally  calls  attention  to  the  languages  in 
 which  Hiey  are  written.  The  ancient  languages  differ 
 in  many  characteristics  from  the  modern.  To  two  char- 
 acteristics, the  synthetical  and  the  concrete,  I  would  now 
 briefly  direct  remark.  The  early  mind  of  the  world  is 
 everywhere  unanalytical.  It  seizes  the  salient  points  of 
 things  and  leaves  the  hearer  of  its  utterances  to  fill  out 
 the  picture  the.  outline  of  which  only  is  sketched. 
 Hence,  synecdoche  plays  a  large  role  in  the  scene  of 
 verbal  and  nominal  origination.  The  agglomeration  of 
 many  elements  into  a  confused  whole,  the  subordination 
 of  accessor}'-  notions  to  some  arbitrarily  assumed  princi- 
 pal idea,  the  lumping  of  accidentally  related  conceptions 
 into  one  heterogeneous  mass  under  some  one  vocable 
 furnishes  a  striking  exemplification  of  the  illogical  char- 
 acteristics of  early  tongues.  The  Latin  regat  may 
 mean  let  him  rtcle;  the  Hebrew  tomlak,  thou  wilt  cause 
 
458  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 to  rule.  The  literary  Arabic  partakes  in  some  degree 
 the  strange  indefiniteness  of  the  Chinese,  and  the  long 
 definitions  often  irrelated  and  directly  opposite,  attached 
 to  its  roots  in  the  Arabic  lexicon  are  sufficient  to  be- 
 wilder the  most  laborious  and  experienced  student.  In 
 that  tongue  the  synecdoche  attains  almost  infinite  possi- 
 bilities. An  Arabic  lexicographer  claims  to  have  found 
 in  his  language  12,305,412  words  and  more  than  10,000 
 roots.  He  gives  ^00  names  for  lion,  and  200  for  serpent. 
 Firuzabadi,  the  author  of  the  Kamus,  counted  more  than 
 eighty  words  for  honey,  and  then  relinguished  the  task. 
 He  claims  also  a  thousand  words  for  sivord  and  400  for 
 misfortune.  Von  Hammer  in  his  monograph  on  the 
 Camel,  catalogues,  one  after  the  other,  544  words  descrip- 
 tive of  the  "Ship  of  the  Desert."  "Such  facts,"  says 
 Renan,  "cease  to  appear  extraordinary  when  we  con- 
 sider that  these  synonymes  are  most  frequently  but  epi- 
 thets substantivized,  or  tropes  employed  accidentally  by 
 a  poet."  The  advantages  accruing  to  style  from  this 
 lexicographical  wealth,  are  conciseness,  elegance  of  dic- 
 tion, limitless  poetical  freedom,  musical  and  harmonious 
 arrangement.  The  disadvantages  are  mental  obfusca- 
 tion,  mutual  misapprehension,  limitless  possibilities  of 
 error,  mysticism  and  self-deception.  When  an  Arab 
 writes  a  letter,  if  in  the  literary  dialect,  after  which  all 
 strive,  he  often  sends  along  a  messenger  to  read  it.  The 
 comfort  of  the  Arabic  student  is  that  the  Arabs  are  often 
 puzzled  more  than  we,  with  our  methodical  habits  of 
 study,  over  the  mysteries  of  much  of  their  literature. 
 The  analytical  languages  are  the  product  of  modern 
 times  which  will  not  be  baffled  in  its  resolute  purpose  of 
 perspicuous  expression.  The  language  fitted  for  obscu- 
 rity, for  subterfuge,  for  equivocation,  for  treacheiw,  for 
 cowardice  and  slavery,  as  well  as  for  noble  thoughts  and 
 
IiKCTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.  459 
 
 glowing  eloquence  was  a  source  of  disquiet  to  the  deli- 
 cate linguistic  consciousness  of  many  an  ancient  Roman. 
 The  Emperor  Augustus,  says  Suetonius,  began  the 
 practice  of  using  prepositions  to  mark  relations  clearly 
 and  precisely — a  practice  which  the  analytical  mind  of 
 the  19th  century  sees  carried  to  its  fullest  extension  in 
 the  neo-latin  dialects.  The  notion  that  every  concept 
 should  have  a  separate  word  indicative  of  all  its  relations, 
 possible  and  conceivable,  has  given,  in  its  approximate 
 realization,  an  immense  impetus  to  psychological, 
 linguistic  and  critical  research.  Now  the  Semetic  tongues 
 contain  the  elements  of  both  the  synthetical  and  the 
 analytical  stage.  They  have  been  petrified,  so  to  speak, 
 on  the  border-land  of  each.  They  have  a  fitness,  as  in 
 Hebrew,  iui  generis,  to  excel  in  the  loftiest  flights  of 
 the  imagination  and  to  collect  the  awfulest  images  of 
 terror  and  of  grandeur,  and ,  as  in  the  Arabic,  which  is 
 substantially  the  same  tongue,  to  give  out  of  its  im- 
 mense verbosity  the  clearest  expression  to  mathematical, 
 logical  and  critical  truth.  The  stream  of  Semitic 
 speech,  in  its  substance,  is  pellucid  to  the  bottom,  but  the 
 spirit  which  plays  with  its  current  and  ripples  its  sur- 
 face, is  fugitive  and  evanescent.  The  triliterality  of  its 
 roots,  their  consonantal  idiosyncrasy,  their  stony  immu- 
 tability, their  internal  vowel  modifications  are  the  most 
 patent  peculiarities  of  the  family.  Other  languages 
 grow  old,  and  present  the  aspects  of  corruption  and  de- 
 cay; the  English  of  Alfred  the  Great  we  painfully  ex- 
 plore with  grammar  and  dictionary,  but  the  student  of 
 the  Pentateuch  finds  the  same  words,  the  same  phraseo- 
 logical and  syntactical  turns  in  the  prophets  separated 
 from  it  by  a  milliad  of  years.  The  literary  Arabic  of 
 to-day  uses  the  same  vocabulary  with  the  earliest  frag- 
 ments of  the  fifth   century   and  with  the  surahs   of  the 
 
460  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 prophet  of  Medina.  The  Israelite  of  three  thousand 
 years  ago  fresh  from  the  Egyptian  house  of  bondage 
 might  rise  to-day  and  hold  intelligible  domestic  converse 
 with  the  swarthy  fellah  of  the  Nile.  How  wonderful, 
 how  persistent,  how  equable  the  vitality  which  electri- 
 fies through  the  chain  of  ages,  from  the  farthest  discov- 
 erable link  in  "the  dark  backward  and  abysm  of  time," 
 lightens  in  the  sublimities  of  Job,  plays  in  Solomon's 
 song,  and  equally  flings  above  the  antediluvian  horizon 
 the  phosphorescent  flashes  of  the  poetic  ?naschal  of 
 Lamech! 
 
 The  phenomenon  oi  analytical  minuteness  in  the 
 childhood  of  man,  and  of  the  crystallization  of  inorganic 
 linguistic  elements  in  the  minds  and  mouths  of  all  the 
 children  is  a  fact  and  a  wonder  worthy  of  the  attention 
 of  those  scholars  who  would  limit  the  marvels  and  inter- 
 pret the  wonders  of  language  from  the  narrow  field  of 
 Aryan  philology,  in  its  laittverschiebungen,  its  phonetic 
 corruption,  and  its  dialectical  regeneration.  Where  else 
 has  the  empire  of  decay  not  left  the  blight  of  its  desola- 
 ting breath?  Where  is  that  other  immutable  tongue  fit 
 for  the  inspiration  of  an  immutable  God?  Why  should 
 we  seek  for  other  causes  of  the  tenacity  of  the  Semitic 
 mind  of  its  ancient  faith  and  its  ancient  ceremonies. 
 
 Again,  the  concrete  character  of  the  ancient  mind 
 must  have  struck  every  student  of  the  classics.  The 
 mind  of  man  in  his  early  communion  with  nature  was 
 impressed  with  things  rather  than  qualities.  Thrown 
 into  a  world  new  and  strange,  the  aspect  of  the  starry 
 heavens,  the  "rounded  red  sun  sinking  to  rest  upon  his 
 golden  car,"  the  swift  wrath  of  the  lightning,  the  sud- 
 den boom  of  the  darkening  clouds,  the  hoarse  music  of 
 the  storm-god, 
 
 '■When  the  Wind,  that  grand  old  harper,  smote 
 His  thunder-harp  of  pines." 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.  461 
 
 The  vast  extent  of  the  ocean,  the  solemn  stillness  of 
 the  pathless  woods,  the  green  billows  of  grassy  fields, 
 the  sweet  incense  of  flowers  waving  their  censers  to 
 the  morning  sun,  the  glitter  of  arms,  and  the  pomp  of 
 ambitious  warriors  fencing  in  a  world  with  swords,  at- 
 tract the  thought  and  engage  the  mind  of  the  primeval 
 man.  The  stern  necessities  of  life  leave  no  leisure  for 
 that  calm  and  sedate  stage  which  conduces  to  reflection 
 and  philosophical  introspection.  If  we  examine  the 
 body  of  ancient  speech  we  shall  perceive  that  the  thing 
 is  prior  in  importance  to  the  quality,  the  substance  to  its. 
 attributes,  the  noun  stands  before  the  adjective.  The 
 outside  world  is  the  aim  and  the  object  of  existence. 
 The  modern  generalizes;  the  ancient  specializes  ;(*)  the 
 modern  is  philosophical;  the  ancient  is  picturesque.  We 
 should  say,  "The  world  hates  ingratitude;"  the  Latin 
 would  say,  '•'•onines  immemorem  bcnejicii  oderunt" — 
 "all  men  hate  the  man  unmindful  of  a  favor;"  we 
 should  say  strength,  the  Latin  sanguis  (blood);  we, 
 vigor;  the  Latin  lacerti  (arms);  we,  sentiment,  the 
 Latin  vox  (voice);  we  should  say,  "He  utterly  defeated 
 them;"  the  Hebrew  uvavyakh  otham  shokh  al-yarekh^ 
 — "and  he  struck  them  leg  upon  thigh ;"  we,  "Saul 
 reigned  a  year;"  the  Hebrew  '•'•Ben  shanah  Shaul 
 tfmalkho'1'1 — "Son  of  a  year  Saul  in  his  kingdom."  I 
 mention  these  brief  particulars  and  peculiarities  to  call 
 attention  to  the  necessity  of  the  study  of  ancient  lan- 
 guages in  order  to  a  full  appreciation  of  the  history  of 
 mental  evolution  and  to  the  grave  importance  which 
 attaches  to  the  subject  of  a  proper  interpretation  of  the 
 oracles  of  truth,  and  their  proper  presentation  in  the 
 colorless   and    less    graphic    phraseology    of  the    present 
 
 (*)     See  Farrar,  Chapters  on  Language,  page  199. 
 
462  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 day.  Herein  we  have  an  interesting  field  for  philosoph- 
 ical research,  and  one  that  loudly  calls  for  the  scholarly 
 energies  of  our  times.  A  literal  version  of  any  tongue 
 loses  much  of  the  force  and  much  of  the  sense  of  the 
 original.  The  form  of  the  thought  may  be  depictured, 
 but  its  strength  and  vitality  are  gone.  The  wine  may 
 be  there,  but  its  delicate  bouquet  has  exhaled.  How 
 tamely  does  Goethe  sound  in  a  literal  dress;  and  often 
 how  incomprehensible!  and  yet  Goethe  shares  the 
 thoughts  and  the  sympathies  of  modern  times.  Where 
 is  the  rotundity  of  the  Ciceronian  period,  where  the 
 concrete  impetuosity  of  Demosthenes  furious  against 
 Aeschines  in  the  verbatim  translations  of  undergraduate 
 verbal  and  expressional  poverty?  Where  are  the  wit  and 
 the  satire  of  Horace  to  the  average  reader?  Indeed, 
 many  a  young  student  has  wondered  unavailingly  why 
 the  ancient  classics  have  set  the  scholarly  world  in  an 
 uproar  for  ages,  and  been  held  as  the  model  for  imita- 
 tion for  poets  and  essayists  in  all  refined  and  cultivated 
 lands. 
 
 The  idioms  of  ancient  speech  are  often  difficult  of 
 determination.  It  is  only  latterly  that  the  phraseology 
 of  the  Vaidik  poets  has  yielded  a  possible  motive  under 
 the  patient  investigation  of  the  comparative  mythologist. 
 It  may  be  safely  said  that  the  Bible  is  the  mosi  literally 
 translated  of  all  books,  and  of  all  books  it  and  the  Koran 
 lose  most,  inasmuch  as  they  are  furthest  removed  from 
 occidental  thought,  method,  and  contemplation.  In 
 transporting  himself  from  the  realm  of  Aryan  philology 
 to  the  world  of  Semitic  speech,  a  world  unheard-of,  un- 
 expected and  bizarre,  the  student  will  find  ample  room 
 for  investigation  to  original  results,  ample  opportunities 
 and  great  encouragement  in   a  field  not    fully    occupied. 
 
 But  there  are  other  reasons  why  the  scholarship  of 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.        .  463 
 
 our  land  should  spend  some  of  its  energies  in  the  direc- 
 tion of  Semitic  research.  There  arc  greater  interests 
 for  our  youth  than  the  oft-told  story  of  the  wrath  of 
 Achilles,  the  strifes  of  the  Grecian  and  Trojan  heroes, 
 the  harangues  of  Nestor  at  the  ships,  and  the  wiles  and 
 woes  of  the  crafty  Ulysses.  The  most  singular  spec- 
 tacle in  the  history  of  literature  is  the  ceaseless  song  ot 
 the  blind  bard  of  Greece  giving  the  key-note  to  the 
 strains  of  every  age.  Shall  we  be  employed  forever  in 
 hearing  of  the  battles  and  of  the  men  who  wore  away 
 ten  years  around  a  city  whose  very  existence  has  been 
 questioned,  and  whose  story  has  been  called  a  mass  of 
 myths?  Let  us  turn  awhile  from  the  combats  of  the 
 gods  of  fable  to  the  contemplation  of  Jehovah,  and  in 
 His  solemn  attributes  and  eternal  perfections,  forget  the 
 petty  abominations  of  Olympus. 
 
 The  Semitic  mind  has  given  to  humanity  the  sub- 
 lime doctrine  of  monotheism,  uncovered  the  dark  Here- 
 after, and  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light.  Under 
 its  serene  ray  anthropomorphism  has  vanished  in  a  sub- 
 lime amorphism — ancestral  and  hero  worship  in  the  pure 
 cult  of  the  only  living  and  true  God.  The  uncompro- 
 mising dogma,  aLa  ilaha  ilia  ''l-lahu"  (there  is  no  God 
 but  God),  SJi'ma,  Yisrael,  1'ehovah  elohenu,  Teho- 
 vah  ehadh,  (Hear,  oh  Israel,  the  Lord  our  God  is  one 
 Lord),  the  central  point  of  all  Semitic  thought  and  feel- 
 ing is  of  more  practical  importance  to  mankind  than  all 
 the  dialogues  of  the  Socratic  school  and  all  the  specula- 
 tions of  the  loungers  of  the  agora.  The  thoughtful 
 world  has  blessed  this  iconoclastic  truth.  Shall  we  be 
 idle  spectators  of  this  great  revolution  of  human  opin- 
 ions? Shall  we  have  no  personal  active  sympathy  in 
 the  history  of  man's  religious  enfranchisement?  Shall 
 we  not  rather  pore  upon  the  words  that  Moses  syllabled, 
 
464:  .  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 the  prophets  thundered,  and  that  thrilled  to  the  sweep- 
 ings of  David's  harp?  These  reflections  come  with  es- 
 pecial emphasis  to  the  student  of  biblical  literature,  yet 
 they  have  not  wrought  an  adequate  effect  in  stimulation 
 to  continued  endeavor  in  his  proper  line  of  research. 
 
 The  study  of  Hebrew  as  a  means  of  broad  culture 
 recommends  itself  alike  to  minister  and  layman,  but  to 
 the  minister  it  is  imperative  as  a  necessary  part  of  his 
 theological  equipment.  How  could  a  man  deliver  lec- 
 tures on  Schiller  without  a  knowledge  of  German? 
 What  would  Gladstone's  Homeric  studies  profit  the 
 reading  public,  if  he  were  not  a  most  accomplished  Gre- 
 cian, and  were  driven  for  his  materials  to  the  translations 
 of  Pope,  Cowper,  Derby,  and  Bryant?  It  is  not  denied 
 that  many  great  and  good  men  have  bettered  the  world 
 and  given  glory  to  the  pulpit,  who  could  not  have  named 
 correctly  the  Hebrew  alphabet.  But  the  chief  function 
 of  the  minister  is  to  teach,  and  in  order  to  teach  he  must 
 know.  Knowledge  here,  as  everywhere,  is  power. 
 This  is  so  clearly  recognized  in  regard  to  Hebrew,  that 
 there  is  no  Theological  Seminary  worthy  of  the  name 
 but  insists  strongly  upon  the  study.  Princeton,  the  cat- 
 alogue of  which  alone  I  have  examined,  devotes  three 
 years  to  the  work,  and  gives  optional  instruction  in 
 Chaldec,  Syriac,  and  Arabic.  The  time  is  not  far  dis- 
 tant when  Hebrew  education  will  be  demanded  of  our 
 ministry,  in  general,  and  when  facility  in  theological 
 dogmas  and  ecclesiastical  history  will  not  suffice.  It 
 may  be  emphatically  said  that  no  man  can  expound  with 
 authority  unless  in  christian  humility,  laborious  conscien- 
 tiousness, and  a  profoundly  pious  and  reverential  mind 
 he  has  explored  the  depths  of  Hebrew  and  Syriac  lite- 
 rature. No  man  can  seize  in  its  entirety  the  thought  of 
 the  writers  of  the  New  Testament,  and   cognize  it  in  all 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.  465 
 
 its  relations  unless  he  has  a  feeling  consciousness  of 
 Syriac  thought  and  Syriac  language.  The  life  and  the 
 soul  of  the  speech  of  Matthew,  Mark,  and  John  are 
 Syriac;  the  dead  body  is  the  Hellenistic  Greek;  the 
 faint,  expressionless  picture  of  that  dead  body  is  the 
 English  translation. 
 
 Even  the  Greek  of  Luke  which  is  the  purest  of  the 
 New  Testament  and  abounds  most  in  classical  idioms,  is 
 filled  with  Syriasms  and  Hebraisms,  from  the  evange- 
 list's familiarity  with  Hebrew  and  Syriac  models.  Al- 
 though Paul  was  by  far  the  best  educated  of  the  apos- 
 tles, his  Greek  is  defective  and  betrays  in  ever  chapter 
 his  Jewish  character  of  thought.  He  acknowledges  his 
 imperfections  himself  on  that  score,  in  writing  to  the 
 church  at  Corinth.  Paul  was  a  "Hebrew  of  the  He- 
 brews," of  the  conservative  sect  of  the  Pharisees,  and 
 being  "brought  up"  from  boyhood  at  Jerusalem  at  the 
 feet  of  Gamaliel  the  Elder,  it  is  doubtful  whether  he 
 ever  attended  any  of  the  excellent  schools  of  rhetoric 
 which  made  Tarsus  in  the  opinion  of  Strabo  (xiv,  x, 
 13,)  equal  to  Athens  and  Alexandria.  The  unwritten 
 Talmud  had  pronounced,  before  Hillel's  time,  on  ac- 
 count of  the  skepticism  introduced  during  the  Syrian 
 persecution,  a  curse  on  him  who  should  study  Greek; 
 and  hence  the  Jews  did  not  attend  generally  (says 
 Josephus  in  his  Antiquities),  and  least  of  all  the  Phari- 
 sees, the  philosophical  institutions  of  the  heathen.  In- 
 deed the  Jews  even  yet  prefer  instruction  from  their 
 rabbis.  Certain  quotations  current  throughout  the 
 Greek-speaking  world,  as  certain  passages  from  Shakes- 
 peare among  us,  were  known  to  Paul,  and  indeed  he 
 cites  a  passage  that  is  found  in  the  Thais  of  Menander 
 (1  Cor.,  xv,  33),  one  from  Aratus  (Acts  xvn,  28),  and 
 one   from  Epiemnides  (Tit.,  1,  12).     Paul  in   his  epistle 
 
466  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 to  the  Galatians  (i,  14),  makes  known  his  zeal  in  the 
 study  of  the  Talmud,  which  had  been  drawn  up  parti- 
 ally in  six  volumes  by  Hillel,  B.  C,  32.  His  evident 
 preference  is  for  the  Syro-Chaldaic  or  "Hebrew"  of  the 
 metropolis  of  Judaism.  Jesus  in  the  vision  on  the  road 
 to  Damascus,  won  the  ear  of  Paul  in  the  sweet,  sacred 
 home  tones  of  the  Hebrew  tongue.  Paul's  language 
 throughout  is  saturated  with  this  strict  Hebrew  educa- 
 tion and  his  Hebrew  habit  of  viewing  things.  To 
 attain  to  a  living  consciousness  of  the  thoughts  of  this 
 wonderful  genius  and  noble  christian  hero,  we  must  go 
 over  in  some  sort  the  educational  ground  which  he 
 traversed,  and  con  the  mass  of  learning  which  formed 
 the  human  mental  furniture  of  the  first  and  sublimest  of 
 Christian  theologues. 
 
 What  is  the  cause  of  our  criminal  neglect  of  this 
 branch  of  education?  Is  it  the  indolence  of  the  student, 
 the  incompetence  of  the  teacher,  or  the  difficulty  of  the 
 study?  To  a  mind  already  drilled  in  classical  grammar, 
 the  Hebrew  lays  no  larger  tax  on  the  memory  than  the 
 French,  and  is  of  immensely  less  labor  to  learn  than  the 
 German,  the  Latin,  or  the  Sanskrit. 
 
 Children  of  five,  six  and  seven  years  are  often  among 
 the  Jews  set  to  the  work  of  Hebrew  study.  Prof. 
 Young,  of  Harvard  University,  in  his  pamphlet  on  the 
 "Value  of  the  Study  of  Hebrew  for  a  Minister,"  in- 
 stances the  case  of  the  daughter  of  Dr.  J.  W.  Etheridge 
 who  at  five  years  of  age  began  to  learn  Hebrew  in  the 
 way  of  pleasant  pastime,  and  became  in  time  fully  con- 
 versant with  the  word  of  God.  Heloise,  the  companion 
 of  the  philosopher  Abelard  was  a  good  Hebrew  scholar 
 at  the  age  of  twenty  years;  Margaret  of  Navarre,  at 
 twenty-one.  Maimonides,  who  in  his  early  youth  was 
 banished  from  his  father's  house  because  of  his  refusal  to 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.  467 
 
 study,  subsequently  fell  in  with  a  teacher,  and  concludes 
 his    commentary    on    the  Mishna    in    these    words:     "I, 
 Moses,   the  son  of  Maymon,  commenced  this    commen- 
 tary when  23  years  of  age,  and   finished  it   at  the   age  of 
 30  in    the    land    of   Egypt."     Rashi,    commonly  called 
 Jarchi,    from    the     Hebraization     of  his    city    Lunel,   in 
 France,  completed  his  commentaries  at  33.     On  the  con- 
 trary, Hillel,   who   became   president   of  the   college  at 
 Jerusalem,  who  stands  as  Hannasi,  or  the  chief  in  Israel 
 in   the   Talmud,    some   of  whose  sayings  are  quoted   in 
 the  New   Testament  and   stamped  with  divine   sanction 
 by  our  Savior,  and  who  died  four  years  after  the  birth  of 
 Christ,  began  his  study   of  the  law   at  the   age  of  forty. 
 Instancing  the  value   of  the  study,  the   following  exam- 
 ples may  be  cited:     "Jerome,  at  great  expense,  secured  a 
 Rabbi   to  aid  him  in  his   Hebrew  studies.     Luther  said 
 that    his    knowledge    of   Hebrew    was    limited,    yet    he 
 would  not  part  with  it  for  untold  gold.     Mehmcthon  de- 
 clared that  the  little  he  knew  of  Hebrew  he  esteemed  of 
 the   greatest   value   on   account  of  the  judgment  he  was 
 enabled  to  form  in  regard  to  religion  [propter  judicium 
 de  Religione^)     Milton    devoted    several     hours    every 
 morning  to  the  Study  of  the   Scriptures   in  Hebrew;  he 
 recommended  it  in  his  treatise  on  education,  and  his  own 
 writings  both  in  prose  and   poetry,  attest  how  much  he 
 was  indebted  to  that  study.     Coleridge  used  to  read  ten 
 or  twelve  verses  of  Hebrew  every  evening,  ascertaining 
 the  exact  meaning  of  every  substantive;    and   he  repeat- 
 edly expressed  his  surprise   and  pleasure  at  finding  that 
 in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  the  bare  primary  sense,   if  liter- 
 ally rendered,  threw  additional  light  on  the  text.  (Table 
 Talk,  p.  S6).     Bunsen    wrote  to    his  son  in    1840,   "My 
 good  boy,  do  learn  Hebrew  well,  else  you  will  continue 
 unripe  as  long  as  you  live,  in  many  respects.     It  is  com- 
 
468  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 paratively  an  easy  language,  and  yet  in  our  time  scarcely 
 any  one  is  fluent  in  it.  Only  become  possessed  of  the  in- 
 flections and  common  roots;  they  must  be  taken  by 
 storm."  (Memoirs,  1,561.)  The  Hon.  Robert  Lowe,  of 
 England,  ex-Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  who  was 
 Home  Secretary  in  the  Ministry  of  Gladstone,  deliv- 
 ered an  address  on  the  education  of  boys,  in  which  he 
 said:  "There  is  one  language  which  I  think  it  is  a 
 great  pity  is  almost  entirely  excluded  from  school  educa- 
 tion in  England.  It  is  the  most  ancient,  and  perhaps  the 
 most  interesting  in  itself  of  all  languages — I  mean  the 
 Hebrew.  I  cannot  understand  how  a  man  can  consider 
 himself  as  having  completely  mastered  the  elements  of 
 Theology,  when  he  is  not  acquainted  with  that  lan- 
 guage. It  is  not  merely  the  knowledge  of  the  language 
 itself,  but  the  light  which  it  throws,  and  which  nothing 
 else  can  throw,  upon  the  text  of  the  New  Testament,  for 
 instance.  The  view  that  a  man  has,  the  knowledge  that 
 a  man  gets  of  the  Bible,  when  he  reads  it  standing  on 
 the  vantage-ground  of  a  knowledge  ot  the  Hebrew,  is 
 infinitely  greater  than  can  be  got  by  taking  these  books 
 up  and  passing  to  them  not  naturally  from  the  knowl- 
 edge of  the  Hebrew  of  the  Old  Testament,  but  from 
 the  Greek  classics.  I  hope  to  see  the  day  when  in  our 
 schools  there  will  be  at  any  rate  an  option  for  the  study 
 of  Hebrew.  Nothing  could  tend  more  to  develop  a 
 thorough  and  sound  knowledge  of  the  Bible.'  (Prof. 
 Young,  1.  c,  pp.  26,  27).  An  extension  of  these  views 
 in  thier  application  to  all  alike  is  practically  carried 
 out  in  the  Missouri  University,  the  only  institution 
 in  America,  as  I  am  informed  by  the  United  States 
 Commissioner  of  Education,  where  the  study  is  put 
 on  a  basis  not  necessarilv  connected  with  theological  pur- 
 suits.    The  recognition  of  the  facts,  as  stated  in  the  pre- 
 
LECTURE   OF    PROF.   BLACKWELL.  469 
 
 amble  to  the  resolution  establishing  this  chair  that  "this 
 University  is  patronized  by  the  inheritors  and  students 
 of  a  Christian  civilization,  whose  historical,  literary  and 
 ethical  springs  had  an  oriental  origin,  greatly  neglected 
 but  nevertheless  challenging  the  attention  and  study  of 
 the  highest  order  of  statesmen  and  citizens  of  culture," 
 is  in  itself  a  terse  generalization  of  many  special  rea- 
 sons, a  grateful  acknowledgment  of  an  incontrovertible 
 truth,  a  justification  of  and  a  demand  for  the  founding  of 
 the  Hebrew  chair. 
 
 The  Semitic  tongues  have  not  in  America  received 
 the  treatment  which  they  deserve.  The  study  of  lan- 
 guage has  almost  entirely  confined  itself  among  our  lin- 
 guists to  the  Indo-European  branch.  We  have  added  a 
 Whitney  and  a  March  to  that  brilliant  coterie  of  savants, 
 who,  under  the  leadership  of  Bopp,  Grimm,  Pott, 
 Schleicher,  Benfey,  Kuhn,  Curtius,  Burnouf  and  Max 
 Muller  have  constructed  a  most  fascinating  science.  It 
 is  natural  that  we  should  fall  in  with  the  headlong  en- 
 thusiasm of  Germany  for  this  field  of  Linguistics,  foras- 
 much as  we  are  Germanic  in  tongue  and  lineage,  and 
 our  language  is  a  shoot  of  the  old  Indian  stock.  The 
 traditions,  the  nursery  tales,  the  folk-lore  and  the  my- 
 thology of  our  race  are  in  kind  similar  to  those  of  the 
 most  Aryan  time,  and  have  the  coloring  and  the  fra- 
 grance of  that  Asiatic  table-land  whose  ante-historical 
 breathings  are  whispers  of  the  sunset,  the  darkness,  the 
 dawn,  and  the  day.  We  have  less  congenital  sympathy 
 with  the  lore,  the  gnomes,  the  sagas,  and  the  endless 
 unconnected  and  inconsequential  disquisitions  and  exe- 
 geses of  the  law  which  abound  in  the  Talmud  and  the 
 Midrabh.  The  literature  of  Aram,  of  Babylonia,  of 
 extra-biblical  Palestine,  of  Ethiopia,  of  the  post-Islamic 
 world    is    to    most    of    our    countrymen    in   its   original 
 
470  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 materials,  a  doubly-sealed  book.  We  have  no  names  but 
 those  of  Stuart,  Robinson  and  William  Henry  Green  to 
 add  to  those  of  Gesenius,  Ewald,  Delitzsch,  Furst,  De 
 Sacy,  Quatremere,  Renan,  and  others  equally  distin- 
 guished. The  student  of  the  best  thoughts  of  Oriental- 
 ists must  seek  his  aids  in  untranslated  books  of  German 
 and  French,  so  little  is  the  demand  of  English  scholars 
 for  Semitic  instruction. 
 
 It  has  not  always  been  so  in  America.  From  a  his- 
 toryof  Harvard  University  which  was  kindly  put  in  my 
 hands  by  our  able  president,  and  from  information  fur- 
 nished me  in  a  pamphlet  already  noticed,  by  the  Han- 
 cock professor  of  Hebrew  in  Harvard,  I  learn  that  more 
 than  200  years  ago  it  was  deemed  by  the  over- 
 seers of  that  great  institution  as  important  to  know 
 Isaiah  and  the  Psalms  in  the  original,  as  to  know 
 Homer  and  Aeschylus:  "Under  the  presidency  of 
 Dunster  [in  1642]  no  one  could  receive  his  first  degree 
 unless  he  was  able  to  render  the  original  of  the  Old  and 
 New  Testament  into  the  Latin  tongue.  *  *  In  1708,  at 
 morning  prayers,  all  the  students  were  ordered  to  render 
 a  verse  out  of  the  Old  Testament  from  the  Hebrew  into 
 Greek,  except  the  Freshman.  *  *  Orations  in  Hebrew 
 were  spoken  at  Coommencements."  The  last  of  these 
 was  given  in  181 7.  "The  study  of  this  language  was 
 made  obligatory  upon  all,  regardless  of  what  was  to  be 
 their  destination  in  life;  for  it  was  held,  as  a  vote  of  the 
 President  and  Fellows  of  Harvard  College  declared, 
 'that  the  knowledge  of  it  is  necessary  to  the  divine, 
 useful  to  the  scholar  and  reputable  to  the  gentleman; 
 and  it  is,  therefore,  required  that  the  students  of  the 
 University  be  instructed  in  the  elements  and  first  princi- 
 ples of  this  simply  ancient  and  venerable  tongue.'  " 
 
 The   western   world   is  moving   in  the  direction  so 
 
LECTURE     OF    PROF.    BLAOKWELL.  471 
 
 ably  pioneered  by  the  old  engineers  of  discovery,  and 
 we  behold  year  after  year  Hebrew  professorships  estab- 
 lished in  our  best  institutions.  Harvard  University,  as  I 
 have  shown,  took  the  lead,  and  speedily  was  followed  by 
 Yale,  Cornell  University,  Vanderbilt  University,  Johns 
 Hopkins  University,  and  about  fifty  other  universities 
 and  colleges,  until  so  strong  an  invitation  has  been  given 
 to  investigation  in  this  beforetime  neglected  branch  of 
 knowledge,  that  any  university,  to  maintain  prestige,  ex- 
 hibit advancement,  and  claim  equality  with  its  fellows 
 can  no  longer  dare  to  treat  with  indifference  the  sacred 
 language  of  inspiration.  Missouri  has  not  been  behind 
 in  the  great  privileges  which  she  affords  her  sons  and 
 daughters.  To-day  we  behold  the  great  spectacle  of 
 the  immense  West  and  Northwest  clamorous  for  a  posi- 
 tion in  education,  intelligence,  and  refinement  propor- 
 tionate to  their  great  wealth  and  ever-increasing  popu- 
 lation. The  lavish  liberality  of  their  gifts  will  be  re- 
 paid in  the  vastly  increased  products  of  educated  labor, 
 in  accession  of  population,  and  in  a  wider  prevalence  of 
 order  and  social  security.  And  who  shall  sav  that  we 
 shall  not  in  our  own  good  time  return  to  the  East  warm- 
 er rays  of  genius  and  learning,  beaming  back  from  our 
 sunset  land?  Who  shall  say  that  upon  these  foundations 
 of  early  culture  we  may  not  set  up  an  empire  of  mind 
 co-extensive  with  our  territorial  greatness?  In  all  these 
 aspirations,  I  have  none  greater  than  that  in  the  cultiva- 
 tion of  the  high  questions  of  nature,  mind,  and  destiny, 
 we  shall  excel  in  that  branch  of  investigation  for  which 
 the  chair  I  represent  was  established.  We  walk  in 
 many  linguistic  wonders.  Who  knows  but  in  some 
 curve  of  the  labyrinth  through  which  we  grope  we 
 may  behold  the  daylight  of  escape  from  some  long-tor- 
 turing mystery? 
 
ART— ITS  RELATION  TO  EDUCATION  AND 
 THE  INDUSTRIES. 
 
 By  Conrad  Diehl,  Professor  of  Art  in  the  Uni- 
 versity of  the  State  of  Missouri. 
 
 Art  is  the  means  for  the  embodiment  or  the  con- 
 summation of  the  inspirations  of  man's  creative  powers. 
 These  inspirations  either  elevate  the  mind  above  coarse 
 matter,  or  the}-  enable  us  to  m;ike  matter  subserve  our 
 wants  and  purposes.  The  first  of  these  are  esthetical, 
 the  last  utilitarian. 
 
 -We  can  hardly  assume  that  the 'man  who  was  the 
 first  to  conceive  and  apply  the  wedge,  the  screw,  the 
 lever,  the  steam-engine,  was  less  inspired,  or  exalted, 
 than  the  man  who  produced  the  first  soap  or  gunpow- 
 der; or  he  who  sprung  the  first  arch  or  spanned  the  first 
 river;  made  the  first  plow,  wagon  or  ship;  substituted 
 the  alphabet  for  the  hieroglyphics  or  made  the  first 
 printing-press,  lithograph  or  light-picture;  chiselled  the 
 first  statue,  covered  the  first  canvas,  wrote  the  first  poem, 
 or  composed  the  first  symphony.  The  inspiration,  in 
 either  case,  must  have  been  genuine,  though  of  differing 
 intensity  and  duration. 
 
 The  world  uses  the  word  Art  as  something  specific, 
 and  ignores   the   fact  that  Art   is  a  generic  term  which 
 
474  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 embraces  the  fine  and  Mechanical  Arts — Architecture, 
 Engineering,  Warfare,  &c.  All  these  have  two  things 
 in  common :  their  basis  is  Form ;  their  expression  Form- 
 Language  or  the  utterance  of  Nature- 
 It  is  the  common  acceptation  in  our  country  that 
 Art  is  a  hot  house  plant,  only  capable  of  cultivation 
 among  nations  that  have  reached  the  highest  stage  of 
 their  development,  whilst,  virtually,  it  has  been  the 
 chief  means  to  attain  to  it.  This  presumption  can  easily 
 be  accounted  for,  in  that  we  receive  the  products  of  what 
 ive  term  Art,  at  second  hand  from  abroad ;  and  even  this 
 foreign  supply  does  not  fail  to  stamp  its  impress  on  our 
 home-products  of  industrial  manufacture; — this,  simply, 
 because  all  other  things  being  equal — that  article  which 
 bears  the  stamp  of  this  priestess,  who  ministers  to  the 
 innate  sense  of  the  beautiful  in  man,  determines  our 
 choice,  even  at  expense  and  sacrifice.  Not  only  are 
 the  objects  of  use  products  of  Art,  but  even  the  instru- 
 ments and  implements  by  which  they  were  made:  every 
 devise  to  arm  or  supplement  the  hand  or  eye;  tor  Art 
 stands  in  contradistinction  to  Nature,  and  as  Nature  is 
 one,  so  must  Art  be  one. 
 
 Products  of  Utilitrian  Art,  that  are  devoid  of 
 beauty,  are  at  best  but  useful  crudities.  Beauty  is 
 ever  the  inseparable  attendant  on  their  perfecting. 
 Look  at  the  graceful  plow  of  our  day,  which  can 
 be  handled  with  more  ease  by  a  half-grown  boy  and 
 horse,  than  could  the  cumbersome,  unwieldly  imple- 
 ment of  yore,  by  two  men  and  a  yoke  of  oxen.  Let 
 us  look  nearer:  compare  the  first  steam-engine,  steam- 
 boat or  locomotive  with  the  marvels  of  our  day; 
 "but,"  will  be  interposed,  "these  are  results  of  mechani- 
 cal improvement;" — granted.  What  does  mechanical 
 improvement  mean  ?     It    means    a    nearer    approach   to 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    DIEHL.  475 
 
 Nature:  an  epytomizing  of  its  organic  structure  to  a 
 conformation  with  Nature,  by  utilizing  and  adapting  the 
 lessons  learnt  in  nature.  Beauty  and  fitness  are  insepar- 
 able; for  when  the  attempt  is  made  to  beautify  at  the 
 expense  of  the  useful,  Art  proper  ceases,  and  Artifice,  i. 
 e.,  desception,  fraud — that  vilest  of  all  substitutes  for  the 
 true  and  the  beautiful — asserts  itself:  Artifice  is  Art- 
 shoddyism. 
 
 In  order  that  the  Arts  may  become  indigenous  in 
 our  country,  it  is  the  mission  of  our  race  of  teachers  to 
 bring  out  the  minds  of  the  rising  generation  into  sympa- 
 thy with  nature.  They  must  be  like  priests  and  priest- 
 esses: ever  celebrate  the  nuptials  of  the  useful  and  the 
 beautiful,  by  teaching  in  connection  with  every  subject: 
 Natural  Science,  geography,  &c,  form-reading  and  wri- 
 ting, parrallel  with  the  course  of  instruction  in  word- 
 reading  and  writing. 
 
 Another  argument  that  may  be  made,  is  the  plea  that 
 the  American  people  have  not  yet  reached  that  stage  of 
 opulence,  that  will  admit  of  giving  attention  to  anything 
 beyond  the  material  necessaries  of  existence.  The  prod- 
 igality with  which  capital  is  squandered  in  manias,  such 
 as  horse-racing,  yachting,  walking  matches;  the  build- 
 ing of  cracker-castles,  betting,  gambling,  and  other 
 shoddy-extravagances,  render  this  plea  exceedingly 
 weak.  The  sums  annually  expended  in  vulgar,  ostenta- 
 tious display,  in  the  shape  of  dress,  furniture,  &c,  would 
 besides  securing  the  most  elegant  and  tasty  wearing-ap- 
 parel, interior  appointments,  &c,  go  far  to  beautify  our 
 cities  and  towns  if  invested  in  landscape-gardening,  and 
 monuments,  besides  insuring  for  those  who  are  able  and 
 willing,  more  substantial  satisfaction  and  enjoyment  of 
 their  investment. 
 
 The  youth  of  our  land  squander  their  patrimony  in 
 
476  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 demoralizing  indulgences,  in  large  part,  because  the  cul 
 tivating  influences  of  true  Art  and  Taste  have  never 
 lifted  their  souls  to  an  appreciation  of  something  better. 
 
 The  encouragement  of  Art  has  a  conservative  in- 
 fluence to  save  us  from  the  evils  of  prodigality  and 
 wastefulness,  and  to  utilize,  in  its  highest  form,  the  un- 
 told wealth  of  our  natural  resources. 
 
 The  productive,  social,  and  political  prosperity  of  a 
 nation  has  ever  been  determined  by  the  standard  of  its 
 educational  system,  and  the  extent  to  which  educational 
 interests  have  been  made  popular.  In  most  of  the 
 European  states  a  department  is  established  to  define  and 
 enforce  a  course  of  study  in  every  pursuit,  whilst  in 
 America,  on  the  contrary,  the  people  themselves  have 
 the  government  of  this  matter  in  their  own  hands. 
 Here  the  citizens  elect  men  from  their  own  midst,  to 
 whom  they  entrust  the  sacred  charge  of  supervising  their 
 educational  interests;  thus  giving  into  their  hands  the 
 future  development  of  national  prosperity  and  the  main- 
 tenance of  liberty 
 
 The  School  Directors  assume  the  guardianship  over 
 our  children,  and  to  their  guidance  alone,  must  we  look 
 for  a  redemption  from  the  abuses  perpetrated  by  our 
 national,  state  and  city  officials.  No  position  is  more 
 honorable  than  that  of  Director  and  Guardian  of  Public 
 Schools,  and  no  office  implies  a  tender  of  greater  confi- 
 dence and  trust,  nor  can  such  be  accompanied  by  greater 
 responsibilities,  not  even  that  of  chief  magistrate  of  a 
 city,  state,  or  nation. 
 
 In  our  internal  development,  a  great  want  has  made 
 itself  felt  for  years,  the  true  cause  of  which  has  not  been 
 seriously  traced,  and  hence  has  not  been  appreciated. 
 
 The  causes  of  the  American  revolution,  the  out- 
 rageous acts  on  the  part  of  Great  Britain:     "Navigation 
 
LECTURE    OF    PEOF.    DIEHL.  477 
 
 Law,"  "Restrictions  on  Colonial  Manufactures,"  "Stamp 
 Act,"  and  "Tea  Fraud,"  to  tax  the  Colonies,  were  but 
 slight  items  when  compared  with  the  tax  and  depen- 
 dence which  we  voluntarily  impose  upon  ourselves,  not 
 alone  in  our  relations  to  England,  but  to  the  entire 
 European  continent. 
 
 Europe  imports  from  us  cotton,  grain,  dried,smoked, 
 salt  and  fresh  meats;  England  returns  to  us  hardware, 
 stoneware  and  textile  fabrics;  France  and  Bohemia, 
 glassware;  Germany,  woodenware;  and  all  of  them 
 products  of  industrial  and  aesthetical  Art. 
 
 The  State  of  Missouri  alone,  can  furnish  the  Amer- 
 ican market  with  iron  ore  of  a  superior  quality;  the  best 
 clay  for  all  kinds  of  manufacture  is  found  all  over  this 
 continent;  the  Chrystal  City  Glass  Company  has  recent- 
 ly proved  that  the  material  abounding  in  the  United 
 States  for  its  manufacture,  is  not  inferior  to  that  found  in 
 Europe. 
 
 The  argument  is  not  unfrequently  made,  that  despite 
 the  heavy  premium  we  pay  on  European  manufactures, 
 we  are  still  the  gainers,  because  we  cannot  compete  with 
 them  in  point  of  cheapness.  The  inference  we  must 
 however  draw,  is  simply  this:  we  cannot  compete,  be- 
 cause we  are  not  educated  from  childhood  to  convert 
 raw  material  to  our  uses  (that  process  which  has  been  so 
 pointedly  styled  "raw  produce  mixed  with  brains,") 
 owing  to  our  one-sided  or  literary  education,  and  the 
 total  exclusion  of  fnanual  preparation.  Thus  we  pay 
 tribute  to  skilled  labor  alone,  and  use  our  excellent  raw 
 material  principally  in  such  manufactures  as  require  but 
 little  skill,  and  for  whose  importation  we  cannot  afford 
 to  pay  the  cost  of  transportation. 
 
 If  the  basis  of  our  National  Economy  were  phi- 
 lanthropy towards  Europe,  we  should  do  well  to  continue 
 
478  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 the  present  mode  of  exchange,  at  the  douhle  sacrifice  of 
 a  larger  use  of  our  raw  products,  and  the  development 
 of  our  native  undeveloped  talent  and  thrift. 
 
 By  examining  the  Annual  Reports  of  the  Boards 
 of  Education  of  the  great  cities  of  our  Union,  the  statis- 
 tics will  show  that  but  a  slight  per  cent,  of  the  graduates 
 of  the  higher  departments  enter  upon  a  technical  career; 
 these  few  following  either  architecture  or  engineering. 
 In  Europe  there  is  a  line  of  higher  schools  which  offers 
 to  those  aspiring  to  excel  in  industrial  and  mechanical 
 pursuits,  special  and  superior  advantages  for  developing 
 the  native  resources  of  the  respective  states.  Similar 
 advantages  not  being  offered  here,  as  a  part  of  the  public 
 education  to  the  latent  talent  and  genius,  it  is  even  sur- 
 prising that  any  of  our  High  School  graduates  should 
 follow  industrial  or  art — industrial  vocations. 
 
 We  have  no  cause  for  wonder  if  we  find  that  our 
 workshops  and  offices,  however  closely  or  remotely  con- 
 nected with  thinking  and  working  in  form,  are  in  a  great 
 measure  dependent  on  the  influx  of  this  element  from 
 abroad.  Skilled  mechanics  and  artisans  come  to  us,  ready 
 made,  and  bring  with  them  a  passport  that  is  valid  all 
 the  world  over;  all  of  them  being  more  or  less  familiar 
 with  the  universal  language,  Form.  They  prove  a 
 valuable  acquisition  in  our  workshops  before  they  can 
 speak  our  language,  because  they  can  read  a  design,  or 
 even  improve  upon  one,  and  are  skilled  in  manual  exe- 
 cution. 
 
 Owing  to  these  disadvantages,  the  native  graduate 
 cannot  compete  with  the  stranger  on  entering  into  prac- 
 tical life;  for  he  has  laid  a  foundation  for  only  the  hith- 
 erto principal  pursuits:  commerce,  law,  and  politics. 
 Let  a  prominent  business  man  advertise  for  a  native 
 head-clerk,  and  a  machine  builder  for  a  native  foreman; 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.   DIEHL.  479 
 
 (the  salary  of  the  latter  invariably  exceeds  that  of  the 
 former,)  the  merchant  will  receive  one  hundred  applica- 
 tions from  competent  men,  to  every  one  received  from  a 
 competent  machinist  by  the  builder. 
 
 Some  of  the  greatest  evils  in  our  social,  as  well  as 
 political  conditions,  we  must  attribute  solely  to  the  fact, 
 that  too  few  channels  are  open  to  our  talented  and 
 ambitious  youths,  whose  education  has  not  prepared 
 them  (to  become  producers,  that  they  may  enter  up- 
 on a  more  independent  and  legitimate  career,)  than 
 that  of  tasking  their  wits  to  live  upon  the  produc- 
 ing portion  of  our  nation.  The  supply  for  the  above 
 named  pursuits  (commerce,  law,  politics),  being  greater 
 than  the  demand ,  accounts  for  the  flourishing  condition 
 of  certain  places  of  amusement,  frequented  and  sustained, 
 principally,  by  bright  young  men  that  are  without 
 proper  employment,  to  make  their  worthless  existence 
 endurable;  besides  this,  young  aspirants,  in  order  to  keep 
 up  appearances,  wear  better  clothes  and  make  greater 
 demands  on  the  luxuries  of  life,  than  young  men  who 
 are  fully  interested  and  absorbed  in  useful  labor;  the 
 former  consuming  the  produce  of  their  fellow-men,  the 
 latter  enjoying  their  moderate  share,  and  contributing  to 
 the  welfare  of  others,  besides  insuring  their  own  inde- 
 pendence and  happiness.  The  crying  evil  of  our  soci- 
 ety is:  too   many  drones,  too  few  producers. 
 
 From  day  to  day  it  becomes  more  apparent,  that 
 the  great  states  and  cities  of  the  Union  must  take 
 measures  to  insure  for  themselves  a  greater  enjoyment 
 of  their  home  produce. 
 
 Twenty  years  ago,  the  tide  of  emigration  did  not 
 flow  far  beyond  the  western  limit  of  this  state.  Farmers 
 were  then  obliged  to  bring  their  products  to  the  cities  on 
 wagons,  in  exchange  for  other  commodities.     St.    Louis 
 
480  GNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 and  other  Western  cities,  as  marts  of  exchange  be- 
 tween the  great  producing  West  and  the  manufacturing 
 East,  grew  and  prospered  in  the  measure  in  which  trans- 
 portation, and  thus  emigration  was  facilitated.  Owing 
 to  the  extensive  shipping  facilities  at  the  present  day, 
 the  farmer  needs  no  longer  haul  his  crops  to  the  nearest 
 great  market;  on  the  contraiy,  arrangements  are  being 
 more  and  more  perfected  on  the  part  of  Eastern  mer- 
 chants, to  load  the  produce  on  the  spot  upon  which  it 
 was  cultivated,  and  to  make  their  exchanges  direct;  thus 
 saving  the  heavy  tribute  which  formerly  fell  to  these 
 cities.  It  is  not  venturesome  to  predict  that  in  less  than 
 forty  years,  three-fourths  of  the  commodities  that  are  at 
 present  shipped  to  St.  Louis  for  distribution  westward, 
 (which  still  constitutes  the  most  lucrative  feature  of  this 
 city's  commerce)  will  be  made  available  to  the  consumers 
 at  their  homesteads  at  rates  as  low  as  in  St.  Louis; 
 but  what  can  prevent  our  state  from  supplying  the  great 
 West  and  South  with  these  necessaries  within  that 
 period,  or  even  from  sending  articles  of  superior  manu- 
 facture to  the  New  England  States? 
 
 The  Eastern  states  have  long  taken  steps  to  further 
 other  interests  beyond  those  of  commerce,  agriculture 
 and  mining,  namely  industry  and  manufacture;  and  their 
 commercial  centres  are  now  making  strenuous  efforts  to 
 compete  with  Europe  in  their  highest  branches.  Mas- 
 sachusetts has  made  drawing  an  obligatory  study  in  all 
 her  public  schools,  which  proves  that  this  State  is  deter- 
 mined to  make  her  citizens  an  Art-Industrial  people. 
 Cincinnati  has,  within  the  last  few  years,  taken  energetic 
 steps  in  the  right  direction,  owing  greatly  to  the  munifi- 
 cence of  Messrs.  McMicken  and  Probasco.  The  merch- 
 ants and  manufacturers  of  St.  Louis  held  a  mass-meet- 
 ing in  the   Mercantile  Library  on   February  nth,    1S73, 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    DIEHL.  481 
 
 for  the  purpose  of  deciding  upon  some  definite  plan  to 
 further  these  interests.  From  remarks  male  by  several 
 prominent  citizens,  the  assembly  could  but  conclude  that 
 the  only  thing  necessary  for  developing  industrial  enter- 
 prise in  that  citv,  is  the  establishment  of  a  permanent 
 industrial  exposition. 
 
 It  is  difficult  to  comprehend  in  what  measure  such  a 
 permanent  exposition  could  further  our  productive  inter- 
 ests, under  the  present  conditions  of  our  industry  and 
 manufactures.  Samples  of  all  kinds  of  produce  are 
 brought  to  the  Merchant's  Exchange,  and  their  market 
 value  is  quoted  in  the  newspapers  daily.  All  new  in- 
 ventions of  any  practical  value,  arc  placed  on  exhibition 
 at  pur  annual  fairs,  and  are  duly  announced  and  discussed 
 in  the  press,  and  advertised — not  alone  in  its  columns — 
 but  also  by  circulars,  bills,  and  show-cards. 
 
 We  must  candidly  admit,  that  we  cannot  compete 
 with  foreign  countries,  and  of  late  not  even  with  New 
 England,  nor  shall  we  ever  become  independent  of 
 them,  unless  we  do  as  they  have  done,  i.  e.,  establish 
 schools  for  the  development  of  taste,  for  the  protection 
 of  home-industry,  and  in  them  cultivate  our  home  talent. 
 But  we  can  go  a  step  beyond  Europe  and  New  England 
 in  our  educational  programme,  by  teaching  the  a,  b,  c, 
 of  form  (geometrical  plane  figures),  simultaneously  with 
 the  alphabet  of  written  language,  and  by  teaching  child- 
 ren to  read,  write,  analyse,  and  construct  form,  parallel 
 to  the  course  adopted  in  teaching  spoken  language. 
 Classes  thus  trained  and  educated  will,  after  graduating, 
 be  as  well  prepared  to  pursue  any  branch  of  mechanical 
 or  industrial  enterprise,  as  to  enter  upon  any  occupation 
 in  which  reading,  writing  and  cyphering  are  the  chief 
 requirements.  For  tha  higher  development  of  the  more 
 talented,  it  will  pay  every  community  in  this  country — as 
 
482  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 it  does  in  Europe — to  offer  superior  advantages,  by  estab- 
 lishing technical  and  polytechnical  schools,  which  when 
 conducted  on  ICrehling's  plan  at  Nuremberg,  not  only 
 become  self-sustaining,  but  offer  a  remuneration  to  the 
 advanced  pupils. 
 
 Every  unprejudiced  teacher  will  admit,  that  child- 
 ren American-born,  are  fully  as  talented  as  those  of  any 
 other  country;  the  American  child  having  one  "Teat  ad- 
 vantage, that  of  an  early  consciousness  of  the  truth,  that 
 its  future  welfare  is  dependent  upon  its  own  individual 
 exertions  and  achievements.  This  consciousness  forms 
 the  main  stimulant  and  incentive  of  American  ambition 
 and  go-adiead-a-tiveness,  which  achieves  great  ends,  des- 
 pite the  almost  entire  absence  of  technical  education  in 
 our  Public  Schools.  I  have  never  witnessed,  either  in 
 Munich  or  in  Paris  more  tenacity,  and  in  consequence 
 more  marked  progress,  than  that  displayed  by  American 
 students. 
 
 Gifted  young  men,  having  a  pronounced  talent  for 
 either  sculpture,  historical  or  genre-painting,  are  obliged 
 to  go  to  Europe  for  their  education  and  training.  Those, 
 who  are  destitute  of  means  to  secure  such  an  expensive 
 education,  must  abandon  all  hope  of  attaining  to  any  de- 
 gree of  excellence. 
 
 The  amounts  which  America  pays  to  Europe  for 
 Art-Education  would  suffice  for  the  maintenance  of -two 
 National  Art-Schools. 
 
 Most  American  Artists  of  distinction,  become  so 
 thoroughly  Europeanized,  that  they  remain  on  the  Con- 
 tinent. America  in  patronizing  its  own  Artists  abroad, 
 contributes  to  the  wealth  of  Europe  in  no  less  a  measure, 
 than  by  patronizing  European  talent;  besides  barring 
 itself  from  the  refining   influences  of  their  presence. 
 
 Several   attempts   have   been   made   in   America,  to 
 
LECTURK    OF   PEOF.   DIEHL.  483 
 
 establish  Art-schools.  In  only  a  few  instances  more  has 
 been  attained,  than  the  erection  of  extravagant  exhibition 
 buildings.  The  fact,  that  public-spirited  men  have  con- 
 tributed sums  sufficient  to  make  the  building  of  such 
 costly  toys  possible,  shows  a  heartfelt  desire  on  the  part 
 of  our  people,  to  give  the  Fine-Arts  a  home  in  this 
 country. 
 
 It  is  erroneous  to  believe  that  we  can  import  a 
 branch  from  the  blooming  and  fruit-bearing  tree  of 
 European  Art  (that  has  been  growing  for  ages),  and  by 
 planting  it,  reap  great  harvests.  In  order  that  we  may 
 reap  the  fruit,  we  must  plant  and  nurse  the  seed. 
 
 The  cause  of  failure  of  all  attempts  hitherto  made, 
 to  provide  an  American  City  or  State  with  an  Art 
 school,  can  easily  be  explained. 
 
 The  origin  of  the  Academies  of  Design  in  New 
 York  and  Chicago,  was  the  clubbing  together  of  young 
 aspirants,  for  the  purpose  of  decreasing  the  individual 
 expense  attending  the  study  from  life  (Academy  Figure). 
 From  the  moment  that  Art-loving  citizens  became  inter- 
 ested in  the  movement,  and  monies  flowed  into  the 
 treasury,  the  character  of  these  organizations  underwent 
 a  change.  A  so-called  Academy  Building  was  secured, 
 and  the  greatest  exertions  made  to  make  the  galleries,  or 
 fashionable  picture  salesrooms,  a  financial  success;  whilst 
 the  schools  were  merely  continued  to  keep  up  the  ap- 
 pearance of  philanthropic  design  on  part  of  these  asso- 
 ciations. 
 
 It  may  appear  in  bad  taste  that  I  now  indulge  my- 
 self in  a  few  personal  remarks,  but  as  the  greater  por- 
 tion of  my  conscious  existence  has  been  devoted  to  Art- 
 Study,  and  inasmuch  as  it  has  fallen  to  my  lot  to  organize 
 and  conduct  the  first  Art-Classes  in  the  West,  that 
 offered.,  essentially,  the  same  advantages  to  the  Art-Stu- 
 
484  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 dent,  which  I  had  to  seek  abroad, — some  explanatory 
 statements  may  not  be  deemed  out  of  place:  At  the  age 
 of  17,  my  father  sent  mc  to  the  Munich  Academy.  I 
 then  firmly  set  my  mind  on  preparing  for  the  task  of 
 offering  at  a  future  day,  those  facilities  to  our  home- 
 talent  which  I  was  obliged  to  seek  abroad.  I  remained 
 five  years  in  Munich,  under  the  direct  influence  of  Kaul- 
 bach,  and  then  visited  Paris,  where,  during  a  two  years' 
 sojourn,  I  strove  to  enlarge  my  views  and  knowledge  in 
 the  field  of  Art.  Soon  after  my  return,  I  was  placed  in 
 charge  of  the  Academic  Department  of  the  Chicago 
 School  of  Design,  and  established,  on  my  own  account, 
 a  day  life-class, — which  was  the  first  ever  established  in 
 the  West;  and  prior  to  this,  I  had  never  heard  of  one  in 
 operation  in  the  East.  To  the  students  I  gave  my  ser- 
 vices free.  Since  the  Chicago  Fire,  my  labors  have 
 been  continued  in  St.  Louis,  where  shortly  after  my  ar- 
 rival, the  St.  Louis  Art  Society  was  organized,  and  un- 
 der its  aupices  an  Art  School.  For  the  furtherance  and 
 use  of  the  latter,  the  St.  Louis  School-Board  appropri- 
 ated a  room  on  the  iourth  floor  of  the  Polytechnic  Build- 
 ing. Several  prominent  citizens  contributed  sums  aggre- 
 gating $600.00  for  the  maintenance  of  the  schools,  and 
 it  proved  one  of  the  most  hard-lived  enterprises  on 
 record.  The  room  assigned,  had  for  upwards  of  ten 
 years  been  unoccuppied,  and  about  a  year  after  it  had 
 been  made  available,  it  was  annexed  by  the  Normal 
 School.  During  the  course  of  that  year  however,  and 
 through  the  generosity  ot  Mr.  Jas.  E.  Yeatman,  the 
 same  advantages  were  extended  to  the  Ait-Student  that 
 are  offered  by  European  Academies; — those  of  a  Day 
 Life-Class.  In  July  the  result  of  that  years  work  was 
 exhibited  in  the  Art  Club  Rooms  on  Boylston  street, 
 Boston,    and    was    pronounced  .superior    to    the   exhibit 
 
JjECTURE  of  prof.  mehl.  485 
 
 made,  but  a  week  previously,  by  the  National  Academy 
 of  New  York  City.  The  work  of  the  school  was  sus- 
 pended for  a  term  of  six  months,  and  the  students  were 
 obliged  to  return  to  their  respective  homes;  two  of 
 them  to  Chicago,  and  one  to  Milwaukee, — as  the  school 
 had  attracted  professional  students  from  most  of  the 
 Western  and  Northwestern  States.  Accommodations 
 were  again  provided  by  the  School  Board,  in  a  room  ad- 
 joining the  Library;  and  after  the  work  had  been  gotten 
 fairly  under  way,  the  room  was  divided  into  two  floors, 
 which  again  set  the  School  into  the  open  air  for  a  term 
 of  nearly  four  months.  During  this  period  the  Wash- 
 ington University  opened  an  Art  Department,  and  virtu- 
 ally attracted  to  it  the  body  of  this  class.  When  posses- 
 sion was  given  the  School  of  one-half  the  room,  i.  e., 
 one-half  of  the  lower  half — the  work  was  resumed  with 
 unabated  ardor  until  the  Dean  of  the  Polytechnic  De- 
 partment of  Washington  University  ,  who  was  appointed 
 Chairman  of  the  Library  Committee,  appropriated  the 
 room  to  the  use  of  the  Librararian,  as  a  private  office, 
 and  had  his  action  ratified  by  the  School  Board, — which 
 virtually  disposed  of  the  Art  School.  During  the  term 
 of  its  existence,  it  extended  its  benefits,  gratuitously,  to 
 about  22  students,  the  remainder  paying  but  a  nominal 
 fee.  Some  of  the  works  of  the  School  are  still  on  exhi- 
 bition in  the  International  Exhibition  Co.'s  exhibit  at 
 Philadelphia,  a'nd  were  pronounced  by  Mr.  John  Sartain, 
 the  President  of  the  Philadelphia  Academy  of  Fine 
 Arts,  the  best  School  work  there  displayed. 
 
 The  recognition  of  matter  is  an  impossibility.  To 
 us;  Form  is  everything.  Drawing  is  related  to  form, 
 as  writing  is  to  language.  The  alphabets  of  written 
 languages  are  manifold;  the  alphabet  of  form  is  univer- 
 sal,   and    is    exhausted    in   f  lane -geometry .       The    sign 
 
486  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 which  represents  the  sound  <z,  is  different  in  nearly  every 
 language.  In  many  languages  even  a  variety  of  signs, 
 exist  for  representing  this,  and  also  for  many  other 
 sounds;  whilst  regular  plane-figures,  such  as  the  equilat- 
 eral triangle,  the  square,  circle,  ellipse,  &c,  are  forms 
 that  are  conditioned  by  given  laws,  and  hence  unchange- 
 able all  the  world  over. 
 
 In  the  study  of  form,  the  power  of  perception  must 
 chiefly  be  developed  and  cultivated.  The  eve  being  the 
 direct  intermediator  between  that  by  which  we  are  sur- 
 rounded, and  our  recognition  of  its  presence,  cannot  be 
 cultivated  too  highly;  hence,  every  rational  and  sound 
 mind  must  conclude,  that  all  methods  of  drawing  should 
 strive  to  develop  this  organ ;  as  the  most  essential  feature 
 in  the  study  of  form.  Unfortunately  this  is  not  the  case. 
 All  elementary  drawing  methods  with  which  I  am  ac- 
 quainted, seek,  as  their  highest  aim,  to  train  the  hand 
 mechanically,  and  in  this  particular  endeavor:  one 
 method  ever  strives  to  excel  the  other.  With  their  ac- 
 companying manuals,  they  address  that  to  the  hand  and 
 ear  which  can  only  reach  the  seat  of  intellect  through 
 the  eye.  The  first  task  that  is  invariably  imposed  upon 
 children,  is  the  drawing  of  straight  lines,  free-hand. 
 Several  works  of  recent  publication  even  augment  this 
 practice  by  an  endeavor  to  transform  the  pupils  into  au- 
 tomatic yard-sticks.  The  inculcation  of  ideas  for  ac- 
 quainting them  with  the  principles  that- condition  the 
 formation  of  given  standard  forms,  and  phenomena,  is 
 considered  as  unimportant,  and  the  children  are  thrown 
 upon  their  own  resources   to  discover  them  unaided. 
 
 A  thorough  acquaintance  with,  hence  a  knowledge  of 
 a  subject  must  precede  its  teaching;  for  all  teaching  that 
 is  not  based  upon  knowledge  cannot  be  educational. 
 Any  person,  of  whatever  limited  mental  ability,  can  col- 
 
LKCTURE    OF    PROF.    DIEHL.  487 
 
 lect  a  store  of  facts,  but  only  master-minds  are  capable  of 
 grouping  them  under  the  laws  from  which  they  spring, 
 i.  e.  'generalize.  A  teaching  of  facts,  is  training  in  its 
 meanest  sense.  The  inculcating  of  universal  laws  and 
 principles,  is  true  education;  which  enables  the  receipient 
 to  deduce  facts.  Since  very  few  persons  who  engage  to 
 teach  drawing,  can  trace  their  own  ability,  or  the  profi- 
 ciency of  others  to  a  practical  and  natural  source,  but 
 flatter  their  own  vanity,  by  believing  themselves — and  in 
 their  efforts  to  convince  others — that  this  ability  can  only 
 be  acquired  by  persons  who  are  particularly  endowed 
 with  talent  and  genius, —  good-naturedly  deceive  them- 
 selves and  others,  to  their  mutual  disadvantage. 
 
 We  know  that  animals  are  susceptible  of  training, 
 and  some, — such  as  mice,  birds,  dogs,  horses,  and  even 
 elephants,  are  so  to  a  very  high  degree.  We  have,  there- 
 fore, no  cause  for  wonder,  if  the  majority  of  mankind 
 entertain  a  profound  aversion  for  such  practice. 
 
 A  trainer  can  make  a  pupil  perform  certain  feats,  or 
 do  certain  things  to  a  certain  degree;  the  pupil  being 
 dependent  upon  his  trainer,  can  do  nothing  without  him. 
 Another  trainer  taking  him  in  charge,  must  either  study 
 the  tricks  already  acquired  by  his  new  pnpil,  or  the  pupil 
 must  forget  his  old  tricks,  that  he  may  be  benefited  by  his 
 new  master.  No  teacher  can  infuse  the  holy  fire  of  gen- 
 ius into  his  pupil,  but  he  must  guard  against  extinguish- 
 ing by  main  force,  the  sparks  existing.  The  methods 
 that  are  most  generally  in  use  at  this  day,  are  most  ad- 
 mirably adapted  to  accomplish  this  latter. 
 
 As  the  Public  school  course,  as  well  as  that  of  the 
 University,  has  but  one  mission:  To  lay  a  general  foun- 
 dation for  preparing  the  future  citizen  for  all  ]3ursuits, — 
 every  study  therein  embodied  must  have  its  natural, 
 gradual,  organic  development.     In  the  preparation  of  a 
 
488  (JNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 course,  which  embraces  the  elements  of  all  that  may  be 
 comprehended  as  underlying  form-reasoning,  as  well  as 
 the  pictorial  imitation  of  natural  phenomena,  I  have 
 carefully  avoided  to  act  in  the  class-room,  as  though  the 
 work  under  my  charge  were  the  only  work  of  impor- 
 tance; especially,  as  its  development  and  shaping  de- 
 pended mainly  on  the  regular  teacher.  I  have  ever 
 striven  to  steer  clear  of  defeating  my  aims,  by  avoiding 
 to  arrogate  to  myself  any  undue  authority,  or  by  the 
 enforcement  of  arbitrary  measures  for  securing  immedi- 
 ate results;  yet  I  have  given  earnest  and  special  atten- 
 tion to  detail,  but  without  losing  sight  of  the  whole 
 structure. 
 
 My  entire  course  of  proceeding  has  differed  in  ev- 
 ery respect  from  that  of  the  ordinary  specialist,  who  en- 
 ters the  school-room  with  "fhus  thou  sJiait  do"  but 
 whose  ear  is  deaf,  if  not  his  understanding,  to  "why 
 shall  I?"  and  how  can  I?" 
 
 Let  us  briefly  consider  the  features  of  the  "American 
 Text-Books  of  Art  education,"  which  are  generally  con- 
 sidered a  model  course  for  district  and  high  schools. 
 They  are:  i.  Free-hand  geometric  drawing;  2.  Outline 
 representations  of  objects,  plant-forms,  &c. ;  3.  Conven- 
 tionalization; 4.  Historical  ornament;  5.  Outline  draw- 
 ing from  geometric  objects;  6.  Original  design.  The 
 first  of  these  I  shall  not  attempt  to  confute,  simply 
 because  its  absurdity  is  manifest,  and  will  therefore  only 
 treat  of  the  latter,  owing  to  their  apparent  plausibility : 
 Of  what  practical  use  to  the  student  can  be  these  imi- 
 tations of  black-line  transcriptions  of  historical  conven- 
 tionalized type-forms,  at  the  expense  of  suffocating  those 
 faculties  and  powers,  which  in  a  latent  state,  the  average 
 school-child  as  fully  possesses,  as  does  the  Artist;  who 
 only  learns  to  utilize  them  in  the  measure  as  he  becomes 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    DIEHL.  489 
 
 familliar  with  Nature's  products,  laws  and  phenomena. 
 A  perusal  of  Owen  Jones  "Grammar  of  Ornament" 
 or  "L'Ornement  Polychrome"  by  Racinet,  (copies  of 
 which  should  be  made  available  for  consultation  in  every 
 library  in  the  land),  will  convey  more  of  the  character 
 and  beauty  of  Conventionalized  Historic  Art  in  an  hour, 
 and  stimulate  a  greater  desire  to  cultivate  its  earnest 
 study,  than  would  all  the  black  line  transcriptions  thereof 
 in  a  life-time.  The  meaning,  i.  e.,  the  charm,  the  glow, 
 the  fullness  of  an  Oriental  or  Mediaeval  decoration,  can 
 no  more  be  conveyed  to  the  mind  by  these  cold  and 
 meaningless  diagrams,  than  could  the  luscious  savor  of 
 tropical  fruits,  by  chewing  a  few  parched  leaves  of  the 
 plants  which  bear  them.  But  what  would  prove  im- 
 measurably more  effective  than  the  above,  would  be  the 
 construction  and  decoration  of  a  few  rooms  in  the  High 
 Schools  and  Universities,  strictly  in  imitation  of  the  best 
 historic  types,  and  making  them  accessible  to  the  stu- 
 dent. This  would  not  only  advance  the  Art-culture  of 
 the  communities  enjoying  their  possession,  but  would 
 attract  swarms  of  strangers  to  enjoy  their  benefits. 
 
 Ask  the  Sculptor,  who  stands  at  the  head  of  his 
 profession,  what  conve)iiionalizuig  (style)  means,  in  Art. 
 He  will  show  you,  if  his  vocabulary  should  fail  him  to 
 formulate  in  words,  that  it  means:  the  transmutation  of 
 Nature's  type-forms  into  type-forms  of  Art.  Ask  the 
 Painter,  who  stands  at  the  head  of  his  profession,  the 
 mission  of  outline-representation  in  Art;  he  will  tell 
 you  that  it  is  chiefly  resorted  to  where  the  sublime,  and 
 the  purely  imaginative  is  to  be  portrayed,  in  order  to 
 make  the  resemblance  to  material  reality  less  palpable. 
 From  both  you  will  learn  that  the  means  in  question,  are 
 only  proper  mediums  to  be  employed  by  the  master,  and 
 that  practice  on  the  part  of  the  student  in  these  Art  pro- 
 
490  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 cesses,  must  leave  him  a  tyro  in  Art,  on  a  level  with  the 
 savage;  who  conventionalizes  in  outline  diagrams,  from 
 inability  to  reproduce  what  he  sees,  or  desires  to  repre- 
 sent,— by  other  means.  This  illustrates  forcibly  that  "ex- 
 tremes meet"  that  the  step  from  the  "sublime  to  the  re- 
 diculous"  is  but  one:  what  the  master  ot  his  art  resorts 
 to,  to  elevate  his  work  above  the  matter  of  fact  reality, 
 the  savage  practices  from  want  of  power  to  imitate  the 
 fact.  Conventionalization  is  in  Form-Language,  what 
 metaphor  is  in  word-language:  generalization  from 
 lack  of  ability  to  specialize,  or  generalization  in  its  high- 
 est sense. 
 
 The  most  marked  feature  of  this  model  course,  how- 
 ever, is  Original  Design.  The  child  or  student  is  given 
 a  few  units  of  ornament  which  he  is  directed  to  arrange 
 or  repeat  on  an  axis,  vertical,  or  horizontal,  or  oblique; 
 — or  around  a  centre.  This  latter  direction,  indicates  the 
 aim  for  a  quality  in  original  design  which  is  of  the  high- 
 est order,  viz.,  a  central  idea.  The  scope  of  this  idea  is, 
 however,  very  limited  as  applied  or  developed,  in  this 
 Model  System  of  mind  calisthenics,  in  comparison  with 
 that  of  the  Decoration  of  the  Vatican,  the  Sixtine 
 chapel,  the  Arsenal  and  Opera  House  at  Vienna;  the 
 Museum  at  Berlin,  the  Royal  Residence  at  Munich,  or 
 the  Wartburg,  &c.  This  enumeration  may  seem  far- 
 fetched, even  ludicrous;  but  we  must  bear  in  mind,  that 
 the  initiatory  steps  must  be  made  in  the  direction  of  the 
 goal ;  the  possibilities  of  Art.  No  person  can  compose 
 or  design  a  detail  of  ornament,  unless  he  is  capable  of 
 designing  a  complete  decoration.  Let  us  but  look  at  a 
 detail  of  decoration  in  the  true  sense;  for  example,  some 
 of  the  upright  panels  of  the  Vatican :  the  "Seasons  or 
 Fates;"  and  no  matter  where  the  eye  will  'wander:  the 
 central  idea  will  force    itself  upon  the  mind.      The  prin- 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    DIEHL.  491 
 
 ciple  underlying  Composition  in  Art,  or  as  the  para- 
 phrase terms  it  Original  Design,  is  essentially  the 
 same,  as  that  underlying  a  work  of  architecture,  engi- 
 neering, machinery,  poetry,  music  or  a  scientific  treatise, 
 viz.,  that  the  disposition  of  all  the  component  parts  shall 
 be  so  made  as  to  form  one  harmonious  whole.  Let  us 
 now  look  for  the  central  idea  of  the  work  that  is  the 
 outcome  of  this  Model  System:  the  only  central  idea  of 
 which  the  child  or  student  producing  the  design,  is  con- 
 scious of,  is  the  centre  proper  of  the  geometric  diagram, 
 around  which  the  given  elements  have  been  arranged  in 
 a  meaningless  manner.  Now  let  the  author  of  this  de- 
 vise consult  his  own  conscience,  and  say  if  this  is  not  the 
 central  idea  which  was  uppermost  in  his  mind  when  he 
 laid  down  this  course  of    Original  Design. 
 
 No  amount  of  practice  of  this  kind  can  possibly 
 lead  the  student  to  the  attainment  of  results  beyond 
 those  of  the  merest  mediocrity;  even  in  the  special  direc- 
 tion in  which  these  and  like  methods  purport  to  lead 
 them.  May  good  fortune,  or  what  is  better,  timely  ef- 
 fort, preserve  us  from  stick  originality  of  design. 
 
 Our  work  is  conducted  with  the  use  of  charts  and 
 models,  which  take  the  place  of  the  text-book,  for  giv- 
 ing the  child  and  the  student  the  traditions  of  Form- 
 Study  and  Art,  and  for  acquainting  them  with  Art-pro- 
 cesses and  practices  in  order  that  they  become  apt  pupils 
 of  that  greatest  of  all  teachers, — Nature.  The  District 
 school  pupil  is  put  to  no  expense,  save  that  involved  in 
 securing  clean  paper,  that  is  especially  prepared  for  our 
 work,  and  a  pencil;  also,  when  far  enough  advanced,  a 
 cheap  set  of  instruments  for  geometric  drawing. 
 
 The  first  notions  that  are  given  the  child  are  on  the 
 two  form-properties,  viz;  straightness  and  curvature. 
 After    teaching    the    circle    and  its  parts,  the  directions 
 
492  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 which  straightness  can  assume,  the  two  properties  of  cur- 
 vature are  proceeded  with.  Then  the  difference  and  fixed 
 relations  of  direction,  the  division  curves  'into  measu- 
 rable and  free.  The  free  curves  are  then  presented  as 
 the  elements  of  all  free-curved  ornamentation ;  then  the 
 development  of  all  geometric  plane-figures  is  proceeded 
 with  (which  forms  the  alphabet  proper  of  jForm-lau- 
 guage)  and  their  construction  is  illustrated.  The  child 
 is  next  made  familiar  with  the  laying  out  (development) 
 of  the  superficies  of  the  regular  solids,  also  taught  to  fold 
 these  and  its  observation  is  stimulated  by  showing  how 
 surfaces  of  bodies,  turned  towards  the  light,  appear 
 lighter  than  those  receding  or  turned  away  from  it;  also 
 how  the  latter  surfaces  can  be  illuminated  by  reflecting 
 light  upon  them.  In  order  that  the  child  may  learn  to 
 observe  these  phenomena  in  nature,  it  is  given  examples 
 in  the  representation  of  surfaces  in  light,  shade,  and 
 shadow;  and  all  that  may  be  said  regarding  the  imprac- 
 ticability of  this  practice,  only  tends  to  show  how  little 
 the  education  of  the  eye  is  considered  in  the  ordinary 
 schemes  of  form-instruction  styled  "Systems  of  Draw- 
 ing." Spirit  away  light,  if  but  for  a  moment, — and  of 
 what  use  becomes  this  valuable  organ:  The  presence 
 of  light  is  the  immediate  cause  of  all  visual  phenomena. 
 
 It  is  with  the  building  up  of  a  healthful  mental,  and 
 moral  condition,  as  with  that  of  a  healthy  physique. 
 The  proper  food  for  the  stomach  is  organic  substance; 
 that  for  the  brain  concrete  ideas. 
 
 What  water  is  for  the  assimilation  of  food,  light 
 is  for  the  assimilation  of  exact  notions  and  ideas.  The 
 per  cent  of  water  in  the  physical  system  is  quoted  as 
 ranging  from  75-7S;  what  the  proportion  of  light  should 
 be  in  the  mental  system,  has  not  been  determined,  nor 
 measured;  yet,  it  is  the  mission  of  education  to  supply  it 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    DIEIIL.  493 
 
 in  such  quantities,  as  may  enable  the  recipient   to  con- 
 duct his  future  actions  by  the  li<ght  of  reason. 
 
 Examples  in  the  light  and  shade  are,  however,  never 
 given,  before  the  child  has  been  shown  the  forms  that 
 are  to  be  represented.  These  are  drawn  with  a  knife, 
 out  of  a  soft  substance;  such  as  a  potato,  turnip,  or  soft 
 wood, — and  thus  the  child  fully  understands  the  condi- 
 tions which  it  attempts  to  reproduce.  In  order  to  assist 
 the  child  in  making  correct  observations,  and  accurate 
 representations  of  the  appearance  of  simple  surface- 
 forms,  as  seen  under  various  conditions,  the  shadows  of 
 the  square  and  circle  are  projected.  These  shadows 
 show  exactly  how  the  surfaces  themselves  would  appear, 
 when  seen  from  the  position  of  the  luminous  body.  The 
 child  is  also  taught  to  observe,  that  small  objects  held 
 near  to  the  eye,  will  close  out  from  view  larger  objects 
 that  are  removed  from  it;  also,  that  through  a  small  ori- 
 fice near  the  eye,  greater  objects  can  be  seen  entire  at  a 
 distance  from  it.  By  an  arrangement  of  parallel  planes, 
 it  can  be  led  to  realize,  that,  whilst  but  one  magnitude  of 
 one  plane,  held  in  the  direction  in  which  it  looks,  may 
 be  visible,  more  of  the  surfaces  of  the  other  tins  will  be 
 seen,  in  measure  as  they  are  farther  removed  from  this 
 plane.  With  these  and  many  other  practical  experi- 
 ments, the  child  is  unconsciously  made  familiar  with  the 
 distance  point,  and  horizon  of  perspective.  Beginning 
 with  the  third  school-year,  the  child  is  not  alone  taught 
 to  use  instruments  in  the  construction  of  geometric 
 problems,  but  also  directed  and  encouraged  to  exercise 
 the  eye  and  hand  in  tracing  the  apparent  boundaries  of 
 objects,  and  the  surfaces  enclosing  them,  and  to  imitate 
 the  relative  lights  and  darks  thereof,  at  home.  To 
 assist  it  in  this  work,  it  is  shown  that  the  formation  of 
 most  objects  of  ordinary  use,  is  based  on  the  regular  geo- 
 
494  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 
 
 metric  forms,  principally  on  the  rectangle  and  circle;  and 
 it  is  directed  to  select  such  objects  for  imitation,  as  are 
 based  on  the  forms  that  are  considered  in  the  class-room. 
 Of  the  free  curves  of  Ornament,  the  Sigmoid  is  particu- 
 larly dwelled  upon,  as  in  no  instance  in  the  History  of 
 Art,  has  a  greater  fertility  in  varying  the  application  of  a 
 simple  element  been  shown,  than  did  the  Greeks  with 
 the  S-curve  in  their  flower-ornament  (Anthemion). 
 This  curve  can  be  traced  through  the  history  of  all 
 nations,  i.  e.,  their  applied  Arts.  The  Wave-Line  and 
 Rolling-Curve  are  also  traced  through  all  the  styles  and 
 periods  of  Ornamentation. 
 
 Whilst  I  have  recognized  the  importance  of  mak- 
 ing ample  provision  for  mechanical  and  scientific  draw- 
 ing, I  have  nevertheless  given  the  greatest  attention  to 
 stimulating  and  directing  the  child's  observation  to 
 "Nature:"  the  source  of  all  things; — and  to  initiating  it 
 into  the  laws  of  Symmetry,  Harmony,  and  the  Beautiful. 
 
 I  can  safely  assert,  that  the  means  which  I  have 
 created  for  accomplishing  this,  cannot  be  supplanted  by 
 speculative  theories.  What  I  have  successfully  carried 
 into  the  school-room,  cannot  be  spread  on  text-books,  or 
 covered  by  them.  The  subject  matter,  when  brought 
 before  children,  presents  itself  in  its  essence,  without 
 theories.  Practical  experiments  are,  after  all,  the  only 
 sound  basis  for  theories,  and  are  paramount  to  them  with 
 children. 
 
 The  teachings  of  science  are  laid  down  in  standard 
 works,  and  every  specialist  finds  a  complete  library  at 
 his  service.  A  general  preparation  is  infinitely  more 
 valuable  than  is  a  special  one,  even  to  the  student  of  a 
 specialty. 
 
 Let  us  now  inquire  into  the  means,  methods  and 
 appliances,  that  shall    prove   most  effective  in  imparting 
 
LECTURE    OF     PROF.    DIEHL.  495 
 
 to  our  rising  generation,  the  elements  of  that  knowledge, 
 which  is  chiefly  instrumental  in  enabling  a  member  of 
 society,  to  contribute  directly  towards  the  increase  of  its 
 wealth;  the  elements  of  that  knowledge  which  consti- 
 tutes the  producer :  the  study  of  Form. 
 
 From  a  literary  point  of  view,  this  study  has  been 
 excellently  provided  for  in  our  educational  institutions; 
 but  not  so  in  its  essence. 
 
 Education  has  but  one  true  mission.  It  is  that  of 
 furnishing  the  pupil  or  student  with  all  the  means,  that 
 may  be  necessary,  for  enabling  him  to  mark  out  his  own 
 course  through  life,  in  whatever  pursuit  his  inclinations 
 or  endowments  may  prompt  him  to  follow. 
 
 The  cry  for  Industrial  Art-Education,  deafens  the 
 just  demands  on  the  study  of  Form  as  a  necessary  branch 
 of  general  education.  Every  man,  whatever  be  his  vo- 
 cation,— whether  commercial,  professional  or  in  the 
 trades,  has  a  constant  need  for  expressing  ideas  in  form, 
 whether  it  be  for  arrangments  and  appointments  of  his 
 business  interior,  the  organization  of  his  domestic  abode, 
 his  office,  workshop  or  factory,  his  dining-room,  kitchen 
 or  laundry,  his  garden,  field  or  pasture;  whatever  he 
 plans,  is  based  on  and  comprehended  in  this  study.  The 
 scientist,  of  whatever  speciality,  has  a  constant  use  for 
 this  knowledge  and  often  discovers  to  his  great  regret, 
 when  too  late,  that  he  is  deficient  in,  if  not  entirely  des- 
 titute of,  one  of  the  most  valuable  agencies  for  giving 
 expression  to  his  discoveries,  for  communicating  or  per- 
 petuating his  experience,  and  must  take  recourse  to,  or 
 what  is  worse,  place  himself  and  the  interpretation  of 
 his  ideas  and  labors,  at  the  mercy  of  a  skilled  hand  and 
 eye.  How  much  more  could  he  have  achieved,  had  he 
 received  a  liberal  education  in  Form-reading,  and  a  rig- 
 orous  training  in  Form-writing: ! 
 
496  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 In  former  times  the  Artist  worked  up  to  an  exalted 
 position  from  an  humble  apprenticeship  in  the  trades, 
 as  a  stone  cutter,  iron-forger,  but  principally  from  the 
 workshop  of  the  gold-smith.  To-day,  these  condi- 
 tions are  changed:  apprenticeship,  in  the  true  sense, 
 is  one  of  the  lost  arts, — and  professions  to  proficiency^ 
 but  too  frequently,  occupy  the  place  of  proficiency  in  a 
 profession. 
 
 Formerly,  the  Artisan  and  Artist  were  so  nearly 
 allied,  as  to  justify  the  acceptation  that  they  were  essen- 
 tially one.  Processes  of  Art,  as  well  as  the  exercise  of 
 what  are  at  this  day  considered  special  branches  of  Art: 
 Painting,  Sculpture,  Architecture  and  Engineering, 
 were,  no  farther  back  than  the  Middle  Ages,  practiced 
 with  equal  success,  by  one  and  the  same  Artist.  Of  this 
 the  great  dome  of  St.  Peter's  Cathedral  in  Rome, 
 planned  by  Michael  Angelo;  Albert  Durer's  treatise  on 
 fortifications,  which  was  the  best  of  that  age;  the  cele- 
 brated "Rubens  tower"  at  Antwerp,  &c,  bear  testimony. 
 This  proves  that  Art-Education  proper,  is  paramount 
 to  a  special  preparation  for  any  of  its  pursuits,  as  in  their 
 essence  it  embraces  them  all. 
 
 Let  us  not,  therefore,  in  contemplating  the  hill  near 
 at  hand,  lose  sight  of  the  mountain  in  the  distance;  the 
 cry  is  for  Indastrial  Art!  this  I  heartily  applaud,  pro- 
 vided: that  it  is  made  in  the  sense  that  we  should  set  to 
 work,  spare  neither  time,  nor  energy,  nor  industry,  in 
 our  efforts  to  make  Art  indigenous  in  our  midst;  if, 
 however,  it  be  the  sense  of  this  cry:  that  we  shall  lose 
 sight  of  all  else  in  the  Domain  of  Art,  or  Form-study, 
 but  mere  conventionalized  surface-decoration,  such  as 
 patterns  for  wall-paper,  oil-cloths,  calico-printing,  lace- 
 collars,  &c, — then  I  caution  that  we  stop  here,  to  reflect, 
 and  carefully  weigh  the  consequences  of  such  a  step — 
 before  we  take  it. 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    DIRHL.  497 
 
 What  applies  to  the  conventionalizing  of  plant 
 forms,  must  of  necessity  also  apply  to  the  human  figure 
 and  to  animals; — yet, — who  would  place  before  a  child, 
 or  student,  the  conventionalized  types  of  Egyptian,  As- 
 syrian, Greek  and  Mediaeval  figures  and  animals,  before 
 making  him   thoroughly  familiar  with   their  prototypes. 
 
 The  study  of  historical  ornament  is  one  of  the  great- 
 est importance  to  the  student  of  Form, — but,  he  will 
 enter  into  the  spirit  of  these  transcriptions,  translations 
 and  transmutations,  only  in  the  measure  as  he  has  be- 
 come familiar  with  the  history, — political  as  well  as  so- 
 cial,— of  the  nation,  or  race,  of  which  they  are  the  ex- 
 pression. 
 
 The  value  of  surrounding  the  child  or  student  with 
 the  best  models  that  are  typical  of  all  ages  and  climates, 
 cannot  be  over-estimated; — but,  the  salutory  effects  of 
 these  are  greatly  impaired,  when  they  are  only  collected 
 and  arranged  in  the  form  of  fragmentary  reproductions, 
 or  even  by  collections  of  original  fragments,  as  is  the 
 case  in  most  museums:  English  Industrial  manufacture 
 does  not  so  much  owe  its  excellence  to  the  peculiarly 
 English  methods  of  Art-instruction,  as  to  the  establish- 
 ment of  a  National  museum  at  South  Kensington, — 
 which  is  a  model  that  excites  the  admiration  and  envy 
 of  the  world.  Yet  England,  despite  this  possession,  re- 
 mains but  a  mere  bartering  nation.  Whatsoever  does 
 not  pay  she  does  not  foster:  she  even  sells  casts  from 
 works,  whose  originals  are  distributed  amongst  the  Gal- 
 leries of  the  Continent,  to  us,  much  cheaper  than  the 
 countries  which  own  them,  respectively;  and  Yankee- 
 dom  out-herods  England  by  securing  samples  of  Eng- 
 lish, and  other  European  manufacture,  and  flooding  our 
 Western  and  Southern  states  with  articles  and  goods, 
 whose  patterns  cost  it  nothing,  and   by  so  doing,  stifles 
 
498  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 and  suffocates  home  Art-enterprise,  ingenuity,  talent  and 
 genius. 
 
 In  the  erection  of  the  English  National  Museum 
 neither  perseverance  nor  capital  were  spared.  Lord 
 Elgin's  Guineas  divested  the  Athenean  Parthenon  ot  its 
 Frieze.  The  great  feature,  that  which  causes  envy,  is 
 not  so  much  the  intrinsic  value  of  the  collection,  as  the 
 exemplification  of  the  meaning  of  the  parts  of  which 
 it  is  formed:  hy  reproducing,  in  a  great  measure,  the 
 surroundings  for  which  they  were  originally  designed. 
 Thus,  the  work  of  a  nation  and  period  is  displayed  in 
 rooms  that  are  constructed  to  illustrate  the  architecture 
 of  such  nation. 
 
 For  the  consummation  of  projects  that  have  been  on 
 foot  in  our  country  for  many  years,  we  must  follow  the 
 example  of  England:  —  We  must  create  Art  and  Art- 
 Industrial  museums.  In  connection  with  these,  schools 
 of  Art  and  Ttchnology.  Every  State  of  our  Union 
 needs  a  complete  outfit  for  the  protection  of  her 
 material  interests;  else  she  will  be  obliged  to  go  board- 
 ing around  among  her  sister  states,  or  to  subsist  on  the 
 remnants  of  their  surplus.  Most  of  the  material  for 
 building  up  our  galleries  and  museums  must  necessarily 
 be  imported  from  abroad;  from  Nations  that  have  an  Art 
 history.  But  we  can  not  stop  there.  We  must  also  im- 
 port their  practices  and  traditions  direct  through  living 
 agents,  by  bringing  our  Art-students  home  again — by 
 patronizing  them  at  home. 
 
 When  we  contemplate  the  systematic  order  in 
 which  the  written  languages  are  taught,  which  are  evi- 
 dently not  conditioned  by  a  law  of  nature,  but  arbitra- 
 rily established  by  an  agreement  of  human  families  (na- 
 tions): first, — by  coining  words  to  represent  objects  and 
 ideas,    then, — hy   fixing  signs    to    represent    words,    the 
 
LECTURE    OF    PROF.    DIEHL.  499 
 
 question  forces  itself  upon  us:  why  is  it  that  the  struc- 
 ture of  written  language  is  so  highly  perfected,  its 
 knowledge  and  use  so  universal,  whilst  a  familiarity  with 
 that  which  forces  itself  upon  our  senses,  viz:  form  and 
 phenomena,  still  remains  the  property  of  a  few?  especi- 
 ally when  we  consider  that  form  can  be  taught  without 
 the  aid  of  any  spoken  language,  whilst  the  teaching  of 
 a  written  language  without  form,  is  an'utter  impossi- 
 bility. 
 
 The  world  of  form  lies  open  before  the  deaf  and 
 dumb,  and  the  blind  can  feel  it. 
 
 The  growth  of  language  in  the  primitive  state,  must 
 have  depended  on  the  progress  made  by  man,  to  adapt 
 the  existing  raw  material  to  his  uses.  Ideas  can  only  be 
 generated  by  a  familiarity  with  that  by  which  we  are 
 surrounded,  and  words  are  formed  to  perpetuate  ideas. 
 Words  are  not  ideas;— they  are  merely  the  frames,  the 
 settings  of  these  j excels. 
 
 Primitive  labor  must  have  been  drudgery,  and  it 
 stands  to  reason  that  every  member  of  the  human  fam- 
 ily, who,  by  dint  of  brute  force,  or  cunning,  could  ex- 
 empt himself  therefrom,  did  so.  History  bears  us  out  in 
 the  assertion;  that  the  lower  the  standard  of  culture 
 of  a  race  or  nation,  the  greater  is  the  contempt  for  the 
 laborer,  the  slave;  whilst  in  the  measure  as  civilization 
 advances,  the  higher  the  laborer,  the  producer,  the  main* 
 tainer  of  social  welfare,  rises  in  the  esteem  of  his  coun- 
 trymen and  kind.  This  progressive  elevation  has  gone 
 on,  until,  to-day  the  cultured  nerve  and  skilled  muscle  of 
 the  Artisan  are  ruling  the  world.  The  world  is  now 
 engaged  in  eliminating  the  intellectual  Don  Quixotes — 
 in  transforming  itself  into  an  Industrial  World. 
 The  van  was  led  by  the  little  Swiss  nation  in  the  manu- 
 facture of  watches  and  mathematical  instruments.     The 
 
500  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 
 
 industrial  fever  spread  to  the  summits  of  its  Alps.  Ev- 
 ery senner  and  woodsman  contributes  some  specimen  of 
 Swiss  industry  to  the  world's  market.  Every  village 
 has  its  Sunday  school  in  the  holiest  and  most  religious 
 sense.  That  man  mav  become  more  alike  unto  his 
 Maker,  and  that  thereby  he  may  prove  a  more  valuable 
 member  of  human  society,  his  productive  and  creative 
 faculties  are  the*re  developed. 
 
 The  England  of  today  is  an  industrial  island. 
 Work  is  King!  Germany  has  more  than  doubled  its 
 industrial  educational  facilities  since  the  Paris  Exposition 
 in  i86y;  despite  this,  France,  whose  Art-industrial  pro- 
 ducts have  controlled  the  world's  market  for  centuries, 
 stood  at  the  head  of  the  list  at  the.Vienna  Exposition,  by 
 the  consent  of  all  nations  that  were  there  represented. 
 
 Few  men  realize  that  the  same  knowledge,  which 
 enables  a  carpenter,  or  joiner,  to  make  a  chair,  table,  or 
 case — only  in  a  higher  development — underlies  every 
 product  of  the  highest  order  in  Painting,  Sculpture,  Ar- 
 chitecture and  Engineering.  Very  few  mechanics  in  our 
 time,  and  more  especially  in  the  United  States  (where 
 the  mechanic  is  trained  in  the  performance  of  special 
 parts  of  a  trade)  become  thorough  masters.  When  such 
 mechanics  have  the  misfortune  to  be  thrown  out  of  em- 
 ployment in  their  speciality,  they  can  seldom  turn  their 
 hands  to  other  industrial  pursuits;  and  hence  it  comes 
 that  in  vocations,  such  as  clerking  and  standing  behind 
 counters — of  every  description, — going  on  errands,  cart- 
 ing, pauper-labor,  and  other  occupations  that  require  lit- 
 tle or  no  preparation — the  supply  is  ever  greater  than 
 the  demand.  Doubt  it  as  you  may, — -close  your  eyes  to 
 it  if  you  will;  yet,  the  great  question  before  the  Ameri- 
 can educator  to-day,  is:  What  education  will  give  ver- 
 satility? 
 
LECTURE   OF   PROF.   DIEHL.  501 
 
 When  a  state  shall  be  prepared  to  invest  one-half  of 
 the  amounts,  now  applied  to  show  and  superficial  pre- 
 tensions in  cities  like  New  York,  Philadelphia  and  oth- 
 ers, in  good  substantial  training  accommodations,  by  pro- 
 viding for  a  staff  of  competent  professors  in  all  special 
 branches  of  the  Arts  as  well  as  in  the  Sciences,  together 
 with  spacious  and  well  lighted  rooms,  standard  models 
 and  apparatus,  then,  and  not  till  then,  can  it  look  forward 
 to  a  great  issue. 
 
 It  is  safe  to  predict  that  that  State  University  in  the 
 Union,  which  will  take  the  first  steps  towards  establish- 
 ing s.uch  schools,  will  draw  towards  itself  the  most  valu- 
 able raw  product  in  existence,  i.  e.,  talent  and  genius,  and 
 with  it  enterprise  of  a  creative  order.  By  the  time  that 
 such  schools  shall  have  achieved  results,  we  will  un- 
 doubtedly be  able  to  devise  means  for  exhibiting  our 
 products  to  good  advantage,  though  we  may  not  possess 
 a  ginger-bready  marble-front  edifice  with  a  palatial  stair- 
 hall.  Should  we  even  fail  to  accomplish  this  in  our 
 own  state,  then  we  can  send  our  products  to  Eastern 
 Exhibition  buildings. 
 
 History  shows  that  those  nations  have  been  most 
 prosperous,  whose  best  Artisans  were  also  its  greatest 
 Artists,  and  as  such,  established  the  standard  of  perfec- 
 tion in  all  technical  and  mechanical  aims  by  precept  and 
 example.  In  order  that  we  may  insure  future  welfare, 
 we  must  prepare  our  children — our  future  citizens — for 
 this  important  work,  by  training  them  from  the  start  in 
 the  proper  use  of  their  eyes  and  hands,  and  by  pre- 
 paring them  for  all  the  special  studies  of  polytechnical 
 schools  as  well  as  for  those  of  colleges. 
 
 It  will  be  impossible  for  us  to  build  up  any  interest 
 of  great  importance  unless,  as  a  practical  people,  we 
 take  hold  of  it  in  a  practical  and  business-like  manner. 
 
502  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 
 
 There  is  no  propriety  in  disguising  the  fact  that 
 there  are  three  factions  which  are  inimical  to  the  dissem- 
 ination of  true  Art-principles  and  the  building  up  of  our 
 National  Art-interests  upon  a  sound  basis. 
 
 The  first  of  these  is  composed  of  certain  publish- 
 ers, their  avowed  agents,  their  abettors  and  accessaries — 
 whose  Art-standard  is  the  "almighty  dollar."  A  ra- 
 tional and  well-developed  system  of  Art-education  must 
 give  the  death-blow  to  their  pernicious  and  expensive 
 confidence -schemes. 
 
 The  second  is  made  up  of  the  Art-Literati  and  Dil- 
 letanti,  who  disport  their  ignorance  of  the  elements,  pro- 
 cesses, and  practices  of  Art,  with  a  self-asserting  vanity 
 that  puts  truth,competency,  and  qualification  to  the  blush. 
 
 The  third  is  formed  by  the  rapacious,  selfish,  super- 
 cillious  combinations,  which  have  misappropriated  the 
 name  of  Art  school,  Academy  or  School  of  Design, 
 built  up  by  private  corportions,  and  under  the  pretense 
 of  philanthropy,  sway  the  public  sympathy, — insinuate 
 themselves,  into  public  confidence, — and  thus,  in  a  great 
 measure  control,  in  their  misdirected  interest,  the  purse- 
 strings  of  the  wealth  of  communities. 
 
 It  has  been  my  fortune,  during  the  many  years' of 
 devoted  effort  to  promote  and  popularize  the  true  inter- 
 ests of  Ait  in  the  schools  of  the  West — for  the  children 
 of  the  poor  rather  than  of  the  rich — to  have  an  experi- 
 ence of  the  selfish  and  misguided  influences  to  be  sur- 
 mounted, which  may  be  a  lesson  of  value  in  the  future: 
 but  it  is  no  small  gratification  and  reward,  to  know  that 
 my  methods  are  adopted,  and  my  labors  are  now  prac- 
 ticallv  utilized  in  one-halt  of  the  District  schools  of  the 
 City  of  vSt.  Louis. 
 
 The  hour  has  come  when  the  States  of  our  Union 
 should  see  it  to    be  their   true  interest   to  take  control  of 
 
LECTURE   OF    PROF.    DIEHL.  503 
 
 these  great  factors  of  National  prosperity  and  renown. 
 It  is  an  unwise  policy  to  leave  this  feature  of  the  work  of 
 public  education  without  suitable  provision,  and  exposed 
 to  the  precarious  fortunes  of  -private  and  local  patronage 
 and  caprice. 
 
 Every  state  must — as  a  means  of  self-protection — 
 establish  Art  and  Art-Industrial  schools  or  Schools  of 
 Technology.  The  State  Universities  being  the  great 
 nurseries  of  the  productive  industries  of  our  country, 
 must  embrace  them — -must  foster  them. 
 
 What  of  the  seven  wonders  of  the  Ancient  world? 
 The  Mausoleum  of  Artemesia,  the  Temple  of  Diana  at 
 Ephesus,  were  the  marvels  of  Architecture;  the  Pyra- 
 mids of  Egypt,  the  Pharos  of  Alexandria,  the  walls  and 
 hanging  gardens  of  Semiramis,  of  Engineering;  the 
 Colossus  of  Rhodes  and  the  Statue  of  Jupiter  Olympius, 
 of  Sculpture:  all  of  them  products  of  Art. 
 
 Why  are  Athens  and  Rome  the  goal  of  the  Art 
 Pilgrim?  Because  they  are  the  holiest  shrines  of  Art, 
 whose  works  speak  with  a  thousand  tongues  the  glory 
 of  past  civilizations.  The  Art  of  a  Nation  forms  and 
 records  its  history.  The  Art  of  war  (engineering)  on 
 one  hand;  the  Arts  of  Peace:  Painting,  Sculpture  and 
 Architecture  on  the  other.  What  constitutes  the  great- 
 ness of  France?  Is  it  the  conquest  of  territory  ? — the 
 blood  spilled  on  the  field  of  battle?  No!  it  is  the  Louvre 
 which  is  filled  with  the  glorious  Art-Record  of  the 
 French  Nation  and  the  pillage  of  Nations,  that  were 
 momentarily  subdued  by  France,  and  robbed  of  their 
 holiest,  possessions:  their  Art-treasures.  But  that 
 which  imbues  the  Frenchman  with  the  martial  spirit 
 and  national  pride,  so  peculiar  to  him ,  is  the  record  of 
 his  nation's  glory  and  triumphs  in  the  highest  form  of 
 expression  of  which  Art  is  capable:  the  Paintings  at 
 Versailles, 
 
504  (TNIVERSITY    OP   MISSOURI. 
 
 The  Louvre  and  Versailles  are  the  fountain-heads 
 of  the  national  inspiration,  and  of  what  is  known  as 
 French  taste.  Every  Frenchman  at  some  period  of  his 
 life,  fills  his  soul  with  rapture  and  exaltation  at  these  sa- 
 cred altars  o'  the  Nation. 
 
 What  inspiration  does  the  American  imbibe  in  his 
 National  Capitol  at  Washington!  If  a  foreign  Artist 
 of  the  highest  rank  should  happen  into  that  National 
 Monument,  and  examine  the  paintings,  purely  as  works 
 of  Art,  and  remark  that  America  can  have  no  National 
 Art  and  hence  but  a  one-sided  National  Pride, — else 
 szich  paintings  could  not  possibly  disfigure  the  Nation's 
 Sanctuary, — his  language  would,  no  doubt,  prove  ex- 
 ceedingly offensive,  yes,  even  sacrilegious,  to  the  Ameri- 
 can whose  moral  associations  render  them  fit  objects  of 
 admiration  and  patriotism; — especially,  as  he  knows  that 
 no  Kingdom  has  ever  been  more  lavish  in  its  appropri- 
 ations of  funds,  for  a  like  object,  than  has  the  American 
 Nation  in  securing  them.  Yet, — -the  time  may  not  be 
 distant  when  American  Artists  will  be  so  educated  in 
 the  true  principles  of  Art,  that  they  may  share  these 
 sentiments. 
 
 Before  the  time  of  Archimedes,  a  kingdom  could  not 
 have  purchased  a  gross  of  the  most  ordinary  screws, — 
 nor  in  the  balmiest  days  of  Greece,  a  bar  of  common 
 washing-soap.  The  highest  order  of  scientific  knowl- 
 edge was  required  to  produce  them,  whilst  the  lowest 
 order  of  intellect  can  use  them  to  good  advantage.  Art- 
 works are  the  crystallized  thoughts  of  Nations.  They 
 are  the  exponents  of  their  civilization  and  the  stepping- 
 stones  to  future  triumphs. 
 
 A  great  Frenchman  says:  "W"e  say  Art-Industry; 
 — Art-Industry  does  not  exist, — It  is  Art  applied  to  In- 
 dustry !  Art  is  one  of  the  mightiest  machines  of  Indus- 
 try!" We  shall  have  no  Industry — of  a  high  order — ■ 
 without  Art,  and  yet — no  Art  without  Industry. 
 
 Let  the  State  of  Missouri  make  ample  provision, 
 and  this  University  will  soon  afford  a  full  harvest.