AN

INAUGURAL LECTURE

ON

BOTANY,

ONSIDERED AS A SCIENCE, AND AS A BRANCH
OF MEDICAL EDUCATION.

HEAD IN KING'S COLLEGE, LONDON, MAY 8th, 1843.
BY

EDWARD FORBES, F.L.S., F.B.S.,

VICE-PRESIDENT OF THE WEKNEBIAN NATDRAL HISTORY SOCIETY, ETC. J
PROFESSOR OF BOTANY IN KING's COI.LEGR, LONDON.

LONDON:
JOHN VAN VOORST, 1, PATERNOSTER ROW ;

SOLD ALSO BY

B. FELLOWES, LUDGATE STREET;

BOOKSELLER TO THE COLLEGE.

PRINTED BY RICHARD AND JOHN E. TAYLOR,
RED LION COURT, FLEET STREET.

Mr, Principal and Gentlemen,

One of the last friends from whom I parted before
leaving England two years ago on a voyage of researcli in the
East, was the distinguished and much-lamented botanist whom
I have the high but melancholy honour of succeeding in this
chair. His last words on that occasion were instructions for
my guidance dm-ing a proposed investigation of the natural
history of the Aj."chipelago and Asia Minor. The great know-
ledge which he possessed of botanical science was freely and
enthusiastically impai-ted to all who had the pleasure and
benefit of his acquaintance. In the place of that knowledge
and exiJerience, I fear I can only offer a fervent attachment to
his favourite pm-suit, and a determination energetically to
labour in the service of this noble Institution.

The duties of the Botanical Professorship are, the teach-
ing of Botany as a science, and as a branch of medical educa-
tion. Being rather an ally than a province of medicine, it
forms a connecting link between professional and purely
scientific studies. The nature of the subjects of which it
treats, requii'es that it should be numbered among the studies
of the Summer Session, when it is honoui'ably associated in
the medical department with forensic medicine and practical
chemistry. In this introductory lecture I propose, with your
permission, to offer a few remarks on the Natui'al- History
sciences generally, and on Botany in particular, as branches of
medical education ; to take a brief view of the relations of
Botany to other pursuits ; and to offer some considerations
upon the science, and upon the principles of acquiring a know-
ledge of it.

The Natural-History sciences are three : — Zoology treat-
ing of the animal kingdom. Botany of the vegetable, and
Mineralogy of the inorganic bodies abounding in nature.

4

These three are united by the mquii-ies of Geology, which is
rather an exposition of their mutual connexion than a sepa-
rate science of itself. It may be looked upon as the history
of the earth's changes dm'ing its preparation for the recep-
tion of organized beings, and of the causes which determined
the order of then* appearance — ^the proemium of the histoiy
of Man.

The biological sciences, zoology and botany, are intimately
related to physiology and anatomy; and the more those
sciences advance, the closer will be the connexion. In the
most remote divisions of the animal and vegetable kingdoms,
we find the keys which enable us to lay open and understand
the mysteries of ^dtal phssnomena. Through a knowledge of
the stntcture of a simple polype we may comprehend more
clearly the complicated machineiy of the body of man ; and
the observation of the origin and development of a seed may
thi'ow light upon one of the most intricate functions iu the
animal economy.

The views of systematic botany and of systematic zoology
are fast attaining a parallelism which must end in the dis-
covery and development of great general laws common to
both. The two great kingdoms of organized nature seem to
spring, as it were, from one root, and to branch out into cor-
respondent trunks, which, even at then* most distant rami-
fications, exhibit mutual analogies. The lowest forms of each
so closely approximate as to furnish subjects for continual
discussion ; and the number of species, the position of which,
whether in the animal or vegetable kingdom, is as yet dis-
puted or undetermined, proves the close alhance of the animal
and vegetable natm-es toward the point of miion. Creatures
which Ehrenberg figm-es as animalcides, Meyen describes as
plants ; and natm-alists have not yet ceased debating on the
nature of sponges and corallinse. As we ascend in each great

5

series, the animal or vegetable natui'e of their respective menir
bers becomes more and more decided and vinquestionable,
while there is still retained a close resemblance of external
form. Thus a Mucor, an Agaricus and a Sphceria image, as
it were, then* parallels and yet opposites, a Hydra, a Medusa
and an Echinus. Ascending higher we find all resemblance of
form disappear, but still there is a true analogy. The exo-
skeleton of the Monocotyledones represents, though far and
faintly, the exoskeleton of the Articulata ; and the endoskeleton
of the Dicotyledones the same gi-eat modification of structure
in the Verteh-ata. Both kingdoms seem pervaded by a double
representation of each other, — two great spheres, as it were,
repeated mthin themselves ; a representation which will in
all probabihty be found as true in the minor as in the major
gi'oups of organized beings.

Veiy difi"erent laws regulate the mineral kingdom. Life
absent, all the wonderful stractm-es which result from its for-
mative presence have disappeared. Aggi-egation is but a faint
remembrancer of assimilation, and crystallization of organiza-
tion. The laws of chemistiy take the place of the laws of
physiology, and it is in the laboratory that a great and im-
portant portion of the obsei-vations of the mineralogist must
be conducted. Those who would gain a sound knowledge of
the inorganic substances found in natm'e, should avail them-
selves of the instructions and exercises of the practical che-
mistry class-room as a preliminary study of essential import-
ance ; one too of no small consequence to the biologist, as well
as absolutely nccessaiy to the physician.

In all the natm-al-histoiy sciences the process of inquiry
is the same. A close and patient investigation of structure is
entered into, and a careful examination and comparison of
forms with a view to the groupuig of them in natural assem-
blages, the right understanding of which exposes, to us the

6

great laws from the operation of which the admirable haimony
pervading natm-e and manifesting creative wisdom results.
Much, very much, yet remains to be done ; and there is no
fresher field for original research, and the development of a
gi-and philosophy, than that of natm-al histoiy.

Of all the natm'al-history sciences Botany is the most
advanced and the most piirsued. From an early period in
man's history the attention of the observing had been dii'ected
towards the vegetable kingdom, partly from the facdities for the
study of plants — assembled as they are in then- various kinds
abundantly around us — and partly on accoimt of their virtues,
real or imaginaiy. In the olden time the herborist and the
physician were one : in nations as yet unemerged from their
infant or barbarous state they are one still. The objects of the
study were at first pm-ely utilitarian. Fanciful resemblances
to the forms or symptoms of disease furnished the principles
of botanical arrangement. But continued inquiry, even when
conducted upon false principles, led at length fi*om empii-icism
to science, and the herborist ripened into the botanist. A new
light broke upon him. Plants were no longer to be regarded
as mere depositaries of decoctions and elixirs, but were to be
examined for their own sakes. The wonders of their struc-
ture were exposed ; the variety of theii' forms compared
and classified. Their lives were written. The vital processes,
continually going on within theii- bodies, were explored;
their affinities with each other and with the animal kingdom
investigated ; and their history became a store, from whence
could be di'awn at pleasm*e nimiberless admii'able examples of
the perfection of design in creation, and of the benevolence
and omniscience of the Creator.

This change in the object and manner of the studies of the
botanist did not, however, divorce the science from its union
with medicine. On the contrary, it bound their ties fii-mer

7

together. The true knowledge gained by studying the vege-
table kingdom scientifically yielded more benefit to medicine
than all the fancies and di*eamy theories of the herborist. We
learned that the properties of plants were correspondent to
their natm'al affinities ; and the discovery of the botanical re-
lations of a species gave us the true clue to its useful qualities.
Reason banished fancy from the selection of vegetable reme-
dieSj and the gain to medical science was great indeed.

The teaching of Botany in its relations to Medicine is not
one of the least important duties of this chair. But I should
be deceiving my pupils and myself if I encom-aged for a
moment the supposition that such object is to be gained by
the mingling of herboristic notions with the more scientific
parts of the subject. That the medical student acquires but
little by his attendance at botanical lectures, is not an vm-
common fancy among the senior members of the profession.
Some eminent men have gone so far as to denounce it as lost
time. The utmost the student is supposed to carry away is
a knowledge of the names, classes and orders of such plants
as furnish products used in medicine. It seems to me that
the tme object of the connexion of natural-history studies
with more professional pm-suits is, as in this case, too generally
lost sight of, and I gladly avail myself of this opportunity to
urge their claims on yom- attention, and to plead for them on
gi'ounds which have not been put forward sufficiently pro-
minently hitherto, though by no means novel, seeing that the
positions I am about to maintain are avowedly acknowledged
in private by most scientific teachers, though rarely advanced
in the class-room. The plea which I wish to advance is, that
the main use of the natm-al-histoiy sciences to the student is
not merely the teaching him a certain number of facts, the
recollection of which may be sei-viccable to him in after life,
but the training his mind, by means of the peculiar forms of

8

research which characterise those sciences, to that tone and
vigour which must be of the utmost consequence in giving
him power for future professional avocations of a different
natui'e, especially such as are to form the after-occupations of
the student of medicine.

Not that for a moment I would have you suppose that I
am depreciating the value of a knowledge of the facts of natu-
ral history, — far from it : I have myself derived too much
pleasure, too much benefit from an early study of that de-
lightful science not to appreciate its full value, and not to be
desu'ous of seeing all men acquainted with it ; but that, view-
ing it as a branch of education, I am anxious to point out in
what its true educational value lies, and not to evade the
question by enumerating how many animals, plants and
minerals a student may be able to recognise if he dihgently
pursue zoology, botany, or mineralogy. A student of any
science, well-trained in the modes of investigation which that
science teaches, is a much more valuable member of society
than a youthful encyclopedia or a living book of facts.

The two qualities most essential to the physician are correct
observation and accurate discrimination. The fii-st depends
mainly on the power of seizmg all the featm-es of an object
or case with clearness and facility, detectiag adventitious
characters at sight, and excluding such from aU influence on
our conclusions. The second implies powers of just com-
parison, of perceiving the mutual relations of pai'ts or facts,
and of testing the possible agreement of statements mth the
circumstances which accompany them. Now though all men
are endowed with the elements of these qualities, all are not
bora correct observers or accm'ate discriminators. Men must
be educated into such. The mind must be trained to reason
justly, the instniments of the mind to observe correctly. The
classical and mathematical studies of our youth are not in-

9

tended merely to tcacli classics and mathematics, but to train
us to the business of life, and to right judgement in the higher
pm-suits of men. The bodily exercises of om* youth have not
for their object merely those pleasures which such exercises
afford, but the strengthening of our physical powers in order
to ensm'e us a healthy and vigorous manhood. The training
of the mind makes the intellectual man, the training of the
body the physical man. The end is gaiaed in both cases by
means essentially distinct fi'om that end. Now I hold that
natm-al history should be regarded in a similar light among
the studies of the young physician.

The first lesson of natural history is observation. The study
of an animal or vegetable species is the perfection of obser-
vation as far as that species is concerned. The form, the sub-
stance, the qualities, the phsenomena of existence, the influence
of smTounding objects, are all observed with the greatest pre-
cision, and defined so as to be capable of expression in words.
No point affecting that species is left untouched. The study
of a group or genus of animals or vegetables is in like manner
the perfection of discrimination. All the members of the group
are compared in all then." parts with each other, the relations
which they have in common are summed up, and their differ-
ences recorded in every possible point of view. The causes of
those relations and differences are anxiously inquired into, and
a survey is taken of the bearings of the whole group to its
proximate alhes, and, finally, to all equivalent assemblages in
organized nature.

Who can rise up from such a study and not feel mentally
strengthened ? The mind through such an exercise must gain
in both its analytic and synthetic powers. Such an inves-
tigation calls into action all the faculties, the perfectionizing
of which is essential to the fonnation of a sound physician.
The mental process is the same at the bed-side of the patient

10

and in the cabinet of the naturalist : its fost element, correct
observation, leading to correct diagnosis ; the second, accurate
discrimination, leading to sound methods of treatment in the
one case and philosophical views of affinity in the other.

It may be objected, that the student had much better learn
all this at the bed-side than among fields and flowers. To
this I would answer, that no training is so strengthening as
that which separates the process from the object of the pro-
cess. I believe the confounding of the two has been a gi'eat
evil in medical education. It leads to habits of loose reason-
ing, and blunts the most valuable power of detecting fallacies.
Too many professional works notoriously aboimd in bad logic
resulting from such confusion. May we not remedy this defect
by making the scientific branches of medical study — the col-
lateral sciences as they are termed — means of educating the
mind of the student, so as to enable him to enter on his prac-
tice with a truer eye and soimder judgement ? It is well kno\vn
that medical men who have had the benefit of a good scho-
lastic education previous to the commencement of then* pro-
fessional studies enter upon the latter doubly armed, and
thi'oughout life often maintain their superiority over their
brethren equal or even superior in natiu'al talent, though
wanting the benefit of such training. May we not remedy
the defect in the case of the latter, and specialize the superi-
ority of the former by means of the mental exercise afibrded
by the study of natural history ? I do not mean that men
should be made natm-ahsts before entering on then* medical
studies, but that the practical and more abstract branches of the
medical cun-iculum should be pm-sued equally together, and
that, while the acquiring of professional information is a gi-and
object of the student's pursuits, the training which gives the
power to apply that infonnation with precision be not lost sight
of, but occupy a prominent place in the division of his time.

11

And here I would say a word or two on the propriety of
the physician and surgeon combining scientific with profes-
sional knowledge. A time was when an acquaintance with the
pui'ely practical pai-ts of their profession was all too many
medical practitioners thought it necessary to acquire. This
degi-ading idea was favom-ed by the non-professional public,
and to gain a prominent position in literature or science was
too often to close the gates of professional success. But that
time is either gone by or is fast waning away. That profes-
sion, the investigations of which involve some of the deepest
problems in human philosophy, must become more and more
scientific every day. Sound education in literature and sci-
entific instruction in his profession are fast elevating the cha-
racter of the medical student ; and, in the end, an unscientific
practitioner will become as rare as a medical sceptic. One
great evil which has tended to retard the intellectual advance-
ment of the medical student, especially in this gi'eat city, has
been the separation of his studies fi'om all association with the
pui'suits of the scholar and the philosopher. The air of a
hospital is mentally unwholesome, unless mingled with a full
proportion of collegiate atmosphere. The very neighbom-hood
of literary and scientific studies has a purifying and elevating
effect on the mind of the student.

In eastern cities men are gi'ouped into castes, each confined
to one occupation and inhabiting one quarter. Civilization is
thereby impeded : men's minds become narrowed into mecha-
nical modes of thinking, and, in the end, the whole nation
suffers. Is there not something of the same kind in exclusive
professional education ? — a contraction of the mind, from its
association during the most active and impressible phase of
its earthly existence mth such minds only as are absorbed in
similar pursuits ? Shut out from the spirit of letters, of
science and of art, exclusively occupied with one set of thoughts

12

and practices, the man sinks into the drudge. But when the
student finds he is mai-ching onwards to the goal of knowledge
along with a numerous company of youthful seekers after
truth in all its varied forms, marshalled by skilful and earnest
leaders, whose disciphne alike regards their morals and theii-
intellect, his mind warms in its sympathies, and extends its
appreciation beyond its own special duties to a participation
in those of its companions. Such a progress may be looked
for as the result of the system followed in this Institution ;
and the young physician and sm'geon who have been educated
within its halls will have the high gratification of entering on
the duties of life a scholar, a man of science, and a man of
taste j and, above all, imbued with sound principles of re-
ligion and moraUty.

Wlaat I have said in regard to the importance of the
natm'al-history sciences, more esjDccially botany, the most
advanced, as training studies, is not merely applicable to the
medical profession, but also to all other pursuits, whether
general or professional. Professor Daubeny, in the excellent
essay which he has just published on the wiitings and philo-
sophical character of the great botanist of Geneva, DeCandoUe,
whose recent death has been so severely felt by the scientific
world, well remarks on his science, that, " if prosecuted in a
philosophical spirit and with a constant reference to fii-st
principles, it might be capable of serving an important pm--
pose in training and disciplining the mind of the student."

Though it seems to me that the greatest benefit his bota-
nical studies confer on the medical student is the making him
a correct observer and careful reasoner, there is a fact-know-
ledge which he can derive from them of the greatest conse-
quence in his profession. There are more than 300 species
of plants which furnish substances used as articles of Materia
Medica. The power of distinguishing these various species

13

from each other must be of consequence to him who has to
make use of their products. Medical men are expected to be
able to refer each item of the Pharmacopoeia, which may be
derived fi-om the animal or vegetable kingdom, to the par-
ticular species of animal or plant by which it is contributed ;
to assign every such species to its family and class ; and to be
acquainted with their constitution and the general characters
of the beings included within their boimds. A knowledge of
botany enables us to distinguish such plants as are harmless
or nutritive in theii- properties from such as are deleterious or
poisonous. This knowledge is not often called for in the
ordinary routine of medical practice, but to those who enter
either of the services it may become of great consequence.
The anny or navy surgeon, when in the field or at sea, is not
unfrequently thrown upon the resom'ces of his early studies.
Dming the perils of warfare he may find himself in situations
when a stray recollection, derived from his fonner pui-suit of
the collateral sciences, may put it within his power to afibrd
substantial relief to his suflFering comrades. Even the wisdom
of the herborist is then of value. When famine or sickness is
raging, it is often within the power of the medical naturalist
to alleviate its hon-ors, to select the wholesome herb from
among the poisonous, or to find a substitute for medicine
among the indigenous plants of the country when the medicine-
chest is exhausted or plundered. Every natm'alist who has
wandered among the wilds of a half-civilized land must re-
collect times, when any little information he could give on the
nutritive or medicinal properties of its productions was grate-
fully and with avidity received by its poor inhabitants. To
feel that we can alleviate distress, or add a comfort, is a
pleasure which lasts throughout life, and the recollection of
which is as refreshing to the giver as the succour was to the
receiver.

14

Botany then is of importance to the medical man as a
means of acquiriag a knowledge of the som'ces of such re-
medies as are derived from the vegetable kingdom. An im-
portant part of the duty of the Professor is to teach the
student how he is to gain that knowledge ; the exposition of its
results rather belongs to the office of the Professor of Materia
Medicaj and I need not remind you that few combine such
an extensive and original knowledge of that branch of medical
inqmiy, with a profound acquaintance with botanical science,
as my eminent colleague in that department.

A knowledge of the facts of botany is of importance also to
the agriculturist and the chemist, and even to the man of the
world it may afford profit and pleasm*e. To the fii'st the prm-
ciples, at least, of physiological botany are necessary if he
would rightly imderstand what he is about. The tmion be-
tween botany and agricultm-e is every day di-awn closer, and in
these times, when we find the once distinct characters of the
comitry gentleman and man of science so often and so honom'-
ably combined, botanical and chemical science have become
essential parts of his education. The researches of the chemist
are now moi-e than ever directed to the investigation of orga-
nized bodies, and a knowledge of the principles of vegetable
physiology is a necessary aid to the success of his inquii-ies.

The man of the world, whose time is at his own disposal, and
whose year is in part devoted to foreign travel, will find a
knowledge of botany a new source of pleasm-e. AU who have
jom'neyed much in foreign lands have felt the dehght of ex-
amining some beautiful and strange flower, when crossing some
wide and di*eary tract of country, such as every here and there
we meet with on the continent ; and many an idler has been
metamorphosed into a man of science by the recollection of
the satisfaction he had derived fi'om such accidental direction
of his attention to the minuter beauties of nature, and from

15

the desire to renew the pleasui'e he then experienced. As
long ago as the days of the first King JameSj the most chival-
rous nobleman in England wrote in his autobiography, "it
is a fine study and worthy of a gentleman to be a good bo-
tanic*."

The utility of a study of botany to the zoologist and geolo-
gist cannot be too highly estimated. The perfection to which
the labom's of Linnaeus, DeJussieu, DeCandoUe and their
numerous co-labom*ers and pupils have brought systematic
botany, furnishes the zoologist with a sound model on which
to mould the descriptive part of his science, but one vpith which
he is usually I fear too slightly acquainted to make good use
of. Zoology has yet to attain the precision to which botany
so rapidly advanced through the logical acuteness of the
great minds who embraced the study, — a precision greatly
forwarded by the general knowledge of their subject which
they considered it their duty to acquire before they engaged in
original special research. The perfection to which botanical
diagnosis has attained is truly astonishing. More than
50,000 species of knovra plants are distinguished from each
other by short summaries of their essential characters, some-
times occupying but a few words, and at most but a few lines.
Yet there is no confusion. The printed diagnosis is suffi-
ciently precise to enable the student to ascertain the name and
affinities of any plant he may gather even without the help
of figures or other artificial aid. That zoological science may
attain an equal degree of precision, no thinldng naturalist can
for a moment doubt ; but imtil more zoologists than now do,
study the principles by which such precision has been attained,
their science must rest in the unsatisfactoiy state which de-
forms great portions of it at present.

The importance of a knowledge of botanical science to the
* Lord Herbert.

16

geologist rests on different grounds. Perhaps to Mm its great-
est value may lie in conferring tliat training which I have advo-
cated in commenting on the botanical studies of the physician.
But it is also of the greatest use in enabling him to under-
stand the nature and relations of the numerous fossil remains
of vegetables imbedded in the earth's strata, and the exami-
nation of which affords such important data for determining
the relative ages of formations, and the conditions under which
they were formed. ^Vlien we recollect that the gi'cat beds of
coal, which fm'nish such a valuable item in the list of our
economical comforts, have been derived fi'om the destruction of
ancient herbs and trees, we must view with astonishment the
important part played by the vegetable kingdom in contribu-
ting to the substance of the earth's crust.

The history of botany, from the time it first assumed a
scientific character to its palmy state in the present centmy,
is more instructive than that of any of the other natm-al-his-
tory sciences, though later in its development ; for among the
ancients, its most eminent votaries, Theophrastus and Dio-
scorides, were rather herborists than botanists, and origuiated
no gi'and generalizations like those which gave the fii'st im-
pulse to zoological science, nursed by the giant mind and in-
defatigable research of Aristotle. But though zoology started
with the speed of the hare, botany, like the slow tortoise, at
length overtook it in the race, and the heavy volumes of
Bauhin, Gerard and Csesalpinus were all so many steps on the
way. It first quickened its speed as a science of observation.
Ardent naturahsts went forth into foreign climes, and collected
their vegetable products with indefatigable industry, notmg
carefully their living forms and hues. Others, tied do-mi by
the trammels of home-occupation, gathered the plants of their
native countries and recorded theii' variations. Confused
ideas of natural affinities clouded their early arrangements,

17

but fi'om the material so accumulated truer notions were in time
generated. The good and kind-hearted rather than the strong-
minded were the fii'st votaries of the science. The gentleness
of the pui'suit was adapted to the kindliness of their natm*es.
Their earnest unbiassed studies originating in the admiration
of the wonders and beauties of creation, and deep reverence for
the great Origin of all things, were the corner-stones of botanical
science, and on such a sound and fii'm foundation the super-
structm'e could not fail to be nobly and speedily raised. In
time the building was commenced ; Ray, Tournefort, and a
host of lovers of nature laid the first stones. Linnaeus and
Jussieu were the chosen architects.

The gi'eat Swede, whose many-sided mind made all the
science of his time contribute to his grand purpose of develop-
ing the system of nature, saw at a glance, that though there
was much material collected, more must be continually
gathering, and that to make good and rapid use of what had
been drawn together, machinery was wanting.

" Instnunentis et auxiliis res perficietur : quibus opus est
nihilominus ad intellectum quam ad manum*."

Linnaeus invented the required instruments and aids.
Whilst he taught that the gi'and aim of botany should be the
discovery of the true arrangement of plants in nature, and
boldly sketched his idea of what he conceived that arrange-
ment woidd prove to be, — in order that such gi'eat end might
be the more speedily attained, he devised two ingenious arti-
ficial schemes, which, as he foresaw, led to the desired results.
These were the binomial nomenclature, and the classification
of plants according to the number or arrangement of their
I sexual organs.

The first of these inventions, the simplicity of which is that
I characteristic of all the creations of genius, became the great-
* Bacon, Nov. Org. lib. i. aph. 2.

B

18

est means of furthering the progi'ess of natural histoiy. It
was endowing it with a universal language, in which all its
followers might converse with perfect mutual understanding.
The distinctions of nation and tongue were aboHshed by this
admirable scheme, the universal and simultaneous adoption of
which at once proclaimed its own excellence and that of its
author.

The second was, as it were, the making of an index to a great
section of the book of natui'e. Those who slightingly think
of the Linnsean system, as it is termed, forget in the present
to look back fully and fairly on the past. They should remind
themselves of the state in which botany was when Linnaeus
undertook to make its treasures consultable. The understand-
ing of things depends greatly on the perception of their order
and I'elations. When that order and those relations require
deep study ere we can comprehend them clearly, the man who
gives us a clue, however insignificant it may be in its own
nature, is not only conferring on us an invaluable benefit, but
endowing the despised instrument with golden value. Such
a clue did Linnaeus give when he put forth the sexual system.
The scientific systematist, sm'rounded by the stores of his
herbarium, should not forget that those treasures were often
amassed in the fii'st instance by adventurous and earnest men,
rendering good service by then* hands and energy, as good in its
humble way as that which he gives by his head and philosophy.
It was not to be expected of such men that in the field they
should occupy themselves with thoughts of arrangement or
affinity ; their part was to observe and select, and the guide to
their observation and selection was in most cases no other
than the Linnsean system. In the scientific hive as in the
apiary there must be working-bees and neuters as well as
queens and drones : it is necessary for the economy of the
commonwealth. An easy means of acquiring and arranging

19

information is a great help to the workmen of science, and
no department has gained more thereby than botany, which,
thimigh the facihties afforded by the artificial method devised
by Linnfeu*, has had its facts amassed in enormous quantity
for the use of its more philosophic votaries, and owes its
present advanced state in a gi-eat measui-e to such humble
means.

The clue to the labyrinth, then, having served such noble
pm'pose becomes a consecrated object, and should rather be
hung up in the temple than thrown aside with ignominy. The
traveller returning from his adventui'ous and perilous jom-ney
of discovexy, hangs up his knapsack with affection on the
wall of his study. But travellers must retm-n to the fields,
if more is to be done ; and so must botanists, and each must
have recom'se again and again to those helps which aided them
so well in their eai'liest jom-neys.

In saying these few words in favom- of the Linnsean system,
I know I am pleading an unpopular cause ; but I speak out
freely, partly because I mean to proceed on a different basis
in conducting the botanical studies here, and partly because,
after the once over-enthusiastic attachment to the Linnsean
method which prevailed so long in Britain, and which was
carried so far as to impede the progress of botany, a reaction
has taken place which thi-eatens to bhnd the eyes of the
younger botanists to the merits of a device which was, and
ever will be, a most valuable auxiliary of the science.

The aim of Jussieu was of a different kind. Gifted with a
highly /philosophic mind, he concentrated its powers mainly
on one subject. His devotion produced great results. He
placed the study of the natural afiinities of plants on a practi-
cal basis, and originated those views afterwards more fully
developed by DeCandolle and other distinguished men. The
spirit of Jussieu has presided over the gi'eatest botanical works

B 2

20

down to the present day^ and his influence is as powerful
now as when he first expounded to his dehghted pupils just
views of the vegetable kingdom.

The genius and doctrines of Linnseus and Jussieu having
placed botany on a sure scientific basisj hosts of labourers
crowded to the field, and the enthusiastic pupils and admu'ers
of those gi'eat men went forth observing and collecting over
every discovered land. The facts they added demanded new
research and modified arrangements. Still the great stage of
classification had been attained, and the science was to enter
on the third sera of its existence, that of philosophical inves-
tigation. In that sera we now live. Its characters are — the
obsei-vation of facts, not so much for their own sakes as for
the illustrations they afford of the laws of the science ; careful
experimental inquiries into the phsenomena of vegetation, not
undertaken as isolated researches, but with a view to theii- com-
parison with vital phsenomena throughout animated natm-e ;
minute anatomical investigation imder the microscope, not
conducted merely to display new fonns of structure, but in the
hope of solving, if possible, the problem of the ultimate struc-
ture of tissues ; the construction of local floras and publica-
tion of local catalogues, not with the hmited view of assisting
the inhabitants of a province to a knowledge of their vegetable
compatriots, or with the pardonable vanity of showing how
many fine plants grow in the author's country, but in order
that the great laws of the distribution of organized beings on
the surface of our globe may be discovered and developed ;
and the construction of systematic arrangements, not framed
solely for the ascertaining of the natm'al alliances of famdics,
important as such object is, but also mth the view of dis-
covering the great laws which doubtless regulate those alli-
ances equally in the animal and vegetable kingdoms.

Many of the conclusions which such inquiries are yearlj'

31

developing, are but the confirmations of hypotheses advanced
ere philosophical investigation in botany was the rule and not
the exception. But ideas are like seeds : they do not ger-
minate until they meet with the conditions favourable to their
germination. The gi'eat moving idea of modern botanical
philosophy is that of the origin of all the appendages of the
vegetable axis in the transformation of the leaf, their normal
type. Linnaeus himself put it forth in his 'PhUosophia
Botanica' : —

"Principium florum et foliorum idem est: Frin-

CIPITJM GEMMARUM et FOLIORUM IDEM EST : GeMMA CON-
STAT FOLIORUM RUDIMENTIS. PeRIANTHIUM SIT EX CON-
NATIS FOLIORUM RUDIMENTIS."*

Thus aphoristically did Linnaeus proclaim the grand doc-
trine of moi"phology, the influence of which in science, strange
to say, was not to be exerted until Goethe, himself a second
discoverer of the truth, had proclaimed it anew in a poem.
When the prince of naturalists proposed it, the time had not
aiTived for its appreciation. It lay dormant until the genius
of a poet roused it into life and activity.

In like manner, many of the more remarkable botanical
theories, propounded within the last few years, have been but
the expansions of the original ideas briefly expressed and put
forth without parade in the scattered memoii's of that great
living botanist, of whom England should be so proud, who
has been hailed from afar — the whole botanical world appro-
ving— with the well-earned title of " Botanicorum Facile
Princeps."

The three phases of botanical science displayed in its hi-
story. Observation, Classification and Philosophical
Investigation, are the types of the stages through which
* Phil. Bot. p. 301. Metamorphosis Vcgetabilis.

22

we must successively pass in the course of our botanical
studies. The student must base his science on a correct ac-
quaintance with the forms and structui'es of plants, and the
phsenomena of vegetation considered in reference to the vege-
table kingdom alone. He must then become famihar with
the various families, orders and classes into which the genera
and species of plants are grouped; and lastly, having ac-
quii'ed the necessary preliminary knowledge, he is prepared
to enter upon the philosophy of the science, the inquiries in-
volved in the subjects of morphology, teretology, anamorphosis
and distribution. Yet, though these most interesting depart-
ments of botany cannot be fully comprehended until the pre-
liminary knowledge of structure and forms is acquired, the
interest they give to the di-ier inquiries is such, that while
the connected theoretical consideration of them must be re-
served for the final portions of the Course, I shall make a
point, when treating of the facts of physiological and syste-
matic botany, of exhibiting, ia all possible cases, the bearings
of the latter on the higher depai-tments of botanical science.

In conclusion : whatever the idtimate view of the student
respecting the intention of his botanical studies may be, —
whether to enter upon them as exercises for the training of
those faculties which are afterwards to be applied to profes-
sional purposes ; or to engage in them vsdth a determination of
pm-suing botany as a science, and, in the end, developiag its
laws ; or to gain an acquaintance with its facts in order to lay
up an intellectual treasure for future houi-s of recreation or
study in a life of business or leisui-e, — I would remind him
earnestly to bear in mind, at the same time, the more serious
benefits which may accrue from the study of Botany. Tliat
which Lord Bacon said of all knowledge is especially true of
this department, that it " is not a couch whereupon to rest a

23

seai'chlng and restless spirit ; or a terrace for a wandering and
variable mind to walk up and down witli a fair prospect ; or a
tower of state for a proud mind to raise itself upon ; or a fort
or commanding gi'ound for stiife and contention ; or a shop
for profit or sale ; — but a rich storehouse for the glory of the
Creator and the relief of man's estate."

THE END.

Printed by Richard and John E. Taylor, Red Lion Court, Fleet Street.

ADDRESS

OP

FRANCIS LLOYD, ESQ.,

(VICE-PRESIDENT)

TO THE

WEST LONDON LITERARY, SCIENTIFIC, AND
MECHANICS' INSTITUTION,

MANOR HOUSE, KING'S ROAD, CHELSEA,

' '. AT THE

CLOSE OF THE FIRST LECTURE SESSION TERMINATING

MAY 21, 1847.

LONDON:

PRINTED BY B. D. COUSINS, 18, DUKE-STREET, LINCOLN'S-

INN-FIELDS.

1847^

WEST-LONDON

PTERARY, SCIENTIFIC, & MECHANICS'

MANOR HOUSE, KING'S ROAD, CHELSEA.

THE RIGHT HON. EARL CADOGAN.

The Viscount Chklsea, M.P., "Wilton Place,

The Lokd Robert Grosvenoh, M.P.

The Rey. R. Burgess, B.D., Rector of Upper Chelsea,

T. K. Chambers, Esq., M.D., 1, Hill Street, Berkeley Square,

Major T. H. Shadwele Clerke, P.R.S., &c., 4, Brompton Grove,

F. GoDRicTi, Esq., Little Chelsea,

S. Carter Hall, Esq., F.S.A., &c. Rosery, Old Brompton.
The Rev. ^Y. J. Irons, B.D., Vicar of Brompton,
The Rev. C. Kinosley, LL.B., Rector of Chelsea,
F. Lloyd, Esq., Beaufort Lodge,

Captain W.H. Smyth, R.N., K.F.M., D.C.L., F.R.S., F.R.A.S., F.S.A.,&c.

3, Cheyne Walk,
A. T. Thomson, Esq. M.D., Welbeck Street,
Geo. Thompson, Esq., \STiitehcad's Grove,
The Rev. R. Wilson, D.D., Gough House,
Colonel T. Wood, M.P., Cavendish Square.

I^Ottorai'j) ilHemiin-.

The Very Rev. W. Buckland, D.D., Dean of Westminster.

Dkuce, Esq., Cheyne Walk, | F. Godrich, Esq., Little Chelsea.
T. L. Jeffree, Esq., ICing's Road.

iCHBUTT, Esq. Jun., King's Road, | S. B. Howlett, Esq., Smith Street,
T. Maguire, Esq., The Vale, King's Road.

JSanftns.

Messrs. Hopkinson & Co., Regent Street.

Mr. C. Lahee, 1G, Manor Place North, King's Road,
Mr. W. H. Parsey, M.B., Swan AValk, Queen's Road.

CToitncil — i-OR THE Yeak 1846-7.
r.T. Baker, King^s Road, jMr. W. Gosling, 3, Gray's Place,

" - - — ~ — Jones, Cheyne House,

— P. Kruse, Old Swan AVliarf,

— T. M. LovELAND, Shawfield Cottage,
Cornell, 16, Whitehead's Grove, | Rev.E. Rudoe.S.C.L. 15, NewManorPl.
Dixon, 1, Markham Square, Mr. E. O. Symons, Exeter Street,

r. C. Druce, Oakley Square, — H. Whitehead, 7, Whitehead's

FiRBY, 8, Pclham Place, Grove.

^assistant ^ccvetarg aittt 5Lil)ianau,

Mr. William Hill, at the Institution.

|. E. Barnes, 149, Sloane Street,
r. Battcock, 2, Cheyne Walk,
|t L. Bull, 2, Durham Place,

TERMS.

iubwcription £20 0 0 Quarterly Subscription ...... £0 7 0

;il Subscription, with the Lady's Annual Subscription. . 0 14 0

ilcge of introducing a Youth's Annual Subscription

'y to the Lectures 1 4 0 (under 10 years of age) ... . 0 12 0

■^^m^ — —

This Institution offers to its Members the following Advantages-.

THE READING ROOMS

Are open from 9 o'clock in the Morning, until II o'clock at Night
On the tables are the following Publications :

N EWS PAP E RS.

Times, Chronicle, Herald, Daily News, Morning Post, Standard, Globe
Examiner, Spectator, Builder, Economist, Courrier de L'Em-ope,
Guardian, Illustrated London News, Bombay Times.

PERIODICALS.

Edinbm-gh, Quarterly, Eoreign Quarterly and Westminster, Blackwood
Tait, Frazer, Dublin University, Douglas Jerrold, New Monthly, Bentley'
Miscellany, Art Union, Sharpe, Chambers' Miscellany, Athenaeu"
LiteraryGazette, Naval and MilitaryGazette, Punch, Mechanics' Magazine,
Chambers' Journal, Dombey and Son.
CHESS AND DRAUGHTS.

A LIBRARY OF 25,000 VOLUMES,

For reference and circulation, is open on the same days as the Reading
Rooms, between the hours of 10 a.m. and 8 p.m.

■■ t

CLASSES

Already J'ormeA.
■\VJIICH MEET OX TUE POLLOWINO EVENINGS.

Monday, 8 p.m.

Vocal Music Teacher, Mr. Waltkr Joiikso.\.

The additional Subscription to tliis Class is 2*. 6rf. a Quarter.

Tuesday, ^-past 7 p.m.

French Teacher, Mons. Wattez.

The additional Subscription to this Class is li-. a Quarter.

Wednesday, 8 p.m.
Architectural Drawing & Perspective, Teacher, Mr. T. W. Guillo|
The additional Subscrij)tion to tliis Class is 2s. a Quarter.

Glee and Madrigal For practice only.

Thursday, 8 p.m.
Landscape & Figure Drawing . . Teacher, Mr. C. S. Varley.
The additional Subscription to tliis Class is 2*. a Quarter.

Thursday, J-past 8 p.m.
Elocution and Discussion. No additional Subscription.

Saturday, 8 p.m.

Arithmetic & Elementary Mathematics . . Teacher, Mr. J. P. Ha&

No additional Subscription.

Instrumental Music For practice only.

Other Classes are in course of formation.

Members desirous of joining them are requested to leave their Names ^
the Library. Ladies who are Members are invited to join any of the Classes, a"
to attend the Reading Rooms.

Hooks of the Laws may be obtained in the Libraiy, price 3rf. earJi.

^ —

WEST-LONDON

LITERARY, SCIENTIFIC, & MECHANICS'
INSTITUTION,

MANOR-HOUSE, KING^S EOAD, CHELSEA.

The first session of this newly formed and very successful institution
|<closed, on Friday, May 21, 1847, with a musical entertainment. The hand-
lisome lecture-hall was crowded with ladies and gentlemen, influential
liinhabitants of Chelsea and Brompton. After the performance of con-
Itcerted pieces by gentlemen amateurs, members of the vocal and instru-
lunental classes — with madrigals, quartets, including a solo on the harp by
llMr. Streather, and songs by Mrs. Newton and Miss Ward — the Chairman,
|1Francis Lloyd, Esq., delivered the following address: —

" It would not be seeming to allow this our first session to close, and I
sure you will say, so agreeably to close, without offering a few remarks,
[aving had so short a notice, ladies and gentlemen, to consider my
iddress to you on this occasion — in fact, it was not until this evening that
[I knew for certainty who would fill the chair — I am ill able to perform its
luties. I had hoped that the Rev. Dr. Wilson, or another of our Vice-
presidents, would have been present, whom you would have been better
leased to hear than myself. I am, therefore, quite unprepared to say
iat our first and very instructive course of lectures demands at my hands,
lis is Epsom week, too, you know. Wednesday was the Derby and to-
ly the Oaks meetings; and 1 confess to having been carried with the
feam, on this general metropolitan holiday, to enjoy the scene presented
" those beautiful downs, from which landscapes of unsurpassing beauty
id extent charm the eye at every turn ; unmoved, however, by the

' Hopes and fears that kindle hope,
An undistinguishable throng,'

it throw thousands into such a fever of excitement at this season, but to
ird with the deepest interest the greatest social solecism of artificial
presented within the year — crowned heads and calculating citizens,
bichesses and dames of every condition, legislators, judges, poets, and
lilosophers absorbed in one object. 1 was pleased to be kept in coun-
nance by the presence of several members of this institution, whom I
rceived enjoying themselves in their carriages with their families in
e bright breezy air. Like myself, they had no bets on the struggle, but,
e myself, found food for reflection in the scene.
' " It is scarcely a twelvemonth since we met together in this room to
olve that such an institution was needed in Chelsea ; and here we are,
l-blown and thriving. Mr. Warburton, M.P., was our chairman on that
lasion ; and I think his prognostications of success were not exaggerated.

4

Our call upon you has been warmly, I may say enthusiastically, responded
to. You feel how desirable it is in these early days of our social combi-
nation— for we all must acknowledge Chelsea is bursting into new life and
taking its stand amongst the cities and towns of the British empire — that
we should have some neutral ground, restricted to no condition, sacred to
no class, sacred to no denomination, but where all can equally, at all times,
meet together without any restraint, save those of our self-respect, with-
out any laws save those of good manners, for the salutary and noble purpose
of acquiring, in the first place, useful information ; in the next place, of
gaining proficiency in any accomplishrhent ; or, in the last place, of par-
taking in innocent recreation, i think that, in a community like ours,
it is desirable not only to provide facilities for your becoming proficient
in study and in the acquisition of useful knowledge, but also to provide
means for enlarging the sum of human cheerfulness and recreation. It is a
high pleasure, indeed, to find such numerous attendances at our institu-
tion— that you come to our library, to our lecture-rooms, and to our class-
rooms. At our commencement, i)r. Buckland, the learned and truly
venerable Dean of Westminster, condescended to pronounce an inaugural
discourse. We cannot too highly ap[)reciate his kind notice of us. it was
not to extend his influence or exhibit a patronising spirit. It was not
to make greater his great reputation as a cultivator or propagator of science,
or to convince us of his benevolence and universal philanthropy. This
great divine knows that he is best fulfilling his mission on earth in teaching
the greatness of God by a (rue knowledge and searching investigation of
His works. It is in the fulness of his gratitude to our Creator for the
immensity of His goodness in the beautiful system of the universe, that,
even as his years increase, so do his anxieties to make them better under-
stood. He is not one who fears anything from the spread of light amongst
the beings to whom the Almighty has given powers to understand His
works. To talk of limiting human knowledge is impious: all that we, step
by step, acquire, in every branch of moral or scientific nature, is meant for
ns to know ; and cowards — nay, traitors — are we to our destinies to shrink
from the exercise of every faculty of thought. Heralded by so safe a guide
as the Dean of Westminster, let us never cease from examining the
wonders of creation, or from raising our admiration from Nature up to Na-
ture's God! I always was of opinion that we could not commence too
early with the privcipia of science. Clear notions early impressed are
with difficulty effaced. Had I no predilections in favour of universal edu-
cation, I must have learnt its absolute necessity for the well-being of a
community so complicated in its interests as is the dense population of
this kingdom by what has been daily painfully before me, when engaged
magisterially in the police-office of a large manufacturing town, ily
experience leads me to say, that the more general education spreads, so
has crime diminished. The town I mean— Birmingham— is, from thi '
very reason, the best ordered of any of a similar size in the kingdom, i
is nearly twenty-five years since I happened to be in the chair at the fii-
meeting in that town to establish a mechanics' institute like ours. I
commenced; and about six years since did me the honor of electing me it-
president. It has had to struggle with difficulties and discouragements;
but the indomitable resolve of tlie working classes to acquire a knowled^
of the liberal arts still maintains it under the name of the Polytechnic
Institution. The same class of gentlemen here, such as the present and
late mayors of that town, who take active parts in its management, support
our institution ; and we have encouragement from the fact that our incoim"
from subscriptions alone, already exceeds that of this older one by £W^'

and cceleris paribus is not behind those of even Liverpool, Manchester,
and Leeds.

" It has been my lot during the past year frequently to preside at your
council, and a more unwearied, persevering, judicious body of gentlemen,
I really believe has been seldom united for any object. To Mr.
\Yhitehead we are particularly indebted, for he placed his house at onr
disposal for meeting before we acquired our present commodious premises.
Amongst those members of the council who have never been absent when
anything essential to your welfare was to be arranged, I have always
noticed the Rev. Dr. Wilson, by whose able advice as a preceptor we
have much benefited, Mr. Bull, the Rev. E. Rudge (who kindly gave
ns a very interesting lecture at a moment's notice, when disappointed
in the regular course), Mr. Jeffree (our worthy churchwarden, whom
you all have seen most indefatigable, and, knowing the value of time
himself, collected a subscription, to which we owe our handsome clock),
Mr. Jones, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Cornell, Mr. Druce, Mr. Batcock, Mr. Firby,
Mr. Baker, Mr. Symons, and I could name other influential gentlemen,
but it would be invidious to say more. Our present prosperous state is
the best voucher for their attention to our interests. Every metropo-
ilitan district has now similar institutions; and, though we numbpr, in
1 connection with Brompton, about a hundred thousand inhabitants, as
; yet we have had no focus for concentrating our moral and social powers,
(or knowing what they are. I consider it a privilege to have been asso-
( elated with you in your early struggles, rather than to have joined you
iwhen you have accomplished your destiny, and have become vigo-
rrous, rich, and powerful. 1 would rather be able to say to you (as Mr.
IDickens said to the Birmingham Polytechnic Institution, which assimilates
iin its objects and history to ours), ' I knew you in your swaddling
oclothes ; your two elder brothers had drooped and died' (one in Pimlico
land the other in Cadogan-place) ; 'their chests were weak ; about your
ecradle nurses shook their heads and gossips groaned; but up you shot
:apace — up, up — indomitable in your constitution, strong in your tone and
imuscle, well knit in your figure, steady in your pulse, and temperate in
our speech, and of good repute in all your doings, until now j'ou have
own a giant.' Chelsea is in my mind associated with giants of litera-
ure. Here, on the banks of our noble river, were the Tullian villas of
holars and philosophers. Here —

' Where glides the silver Thames along,
His silent winding way' —

'ved Sir Thomas More. Here Erasmus visited him, and of whose visit to
Ihe domestic circle of the great chancellor he has left so charming an
ccount, albeit rather hard upon our pretensions to classical literature,
hich, he says, ' Vix tenuis odor in Angliam demigdret.' His house was
e resort of the most ingenious of that age. "There (not a hundred
ards from this spot) would that brutal and unaccouiitable monarch,
enry VIII, visit and dine with him; and even used, as Roper informs
, to ascend with him to the house-top, to observe the stars and discourse
astronomy. ' A house,' says Erasmus, ' in which every one studies
liberal sciences ; where the principal care is virtue and piety ; where
eness never appears; where intemperate language is never heard;
ere regularity and order are prescribed by the mere force of kindness
d courtesy ; where every one performs his duty, and yet all are so
erful, as if mirth were their only employment. Such a house ought
er to be called a practical school of the Christian religion.' Sir

6

Hans Sloane was afterwards the possessor of the same house. He, you
know, -was a very learned and indefatigable pioneer in science. He suc-
ceeded Newton in the chair of the Royal Society, and was President of
the College of Physicians, to whom he presented the ground of the garden
of the Apothecaries' Company, adjoining the Military Hospital. In the
hamlet of Little Chelsea resided Sir Bulstrode Whitelock, Mr. Pym, the
celebrated member of the Long Parliament, Bishop Fowler, Sir Robert
VValpole, Sir Richard Steele, Dr. Meade, Addison, John Locke, Dr.
Smollett; and Dr. Swift resided, as he tells ns, in his letters to Stella, for
some time in Chelsea. Queen Elizabeth received her education at a palace
the site of Cheyne-walk, Our President (the Earl of Cadogan) derives his
descent and valuable estates in Chelsea ( I believe most of us are his tenants)
from Sir Hans Sloane; and 1 doubt not, with the gallantry and liberaUty
that distinguish his profession (the navy), will lend a helping hand to
our institution, which his lordship may, I think, be proud to see rising
on his property, and certainly not decreasing its value. The rector of this
large parish, as well as the rector of Upper Chelsea and the vicar of
Brompton, are associated with us as Vice-presidents ; amongst whom
are two names well known to science — Captain Smyth, R.N., F.R.S.,
and Major Shadwcll Clerke, F.R.S., with Dr. A. T. Thompson, the learned
author of the ' Conspectus of the Pharmacopoeia,' and Dr. Chambers.

" The changes witnessed in the face of the country within the time of two
not very old men are more than likely to be surpassed during the same
future period ; and this institution may influence the nature of that progress
to a great degree. On this veiy spot where we now assemble (a handsome
street surrounded for miles by houses), not longer since than this period, was
the Earl of Peterborough stopped by highwaynien,in what was then a narrow
lane ; and the robbers, being watched by the soldiers on guard at the gate
of the college, were fired at from behind the hedge. One of the high-
waymen was a student in the Temple, named Brown, whom Mr. Vernon,
the Secretary of State, in a letter to the Duke of Shrewsbury, says, ' a
friend of his (Sir John Talbot) knew well ; and his father, losing his estate,
Mr. Brown lived by play, sharping, and a little on the highway.' You. may
see this anecdote and others, portraying the manners, modes of thought,
and occupations of society, from the Revolution of 1688 to the death of
George II, in a very interesting work, now on our shelves, by Mr. Jesse.
I think the part we are attempting to play, in carrying onward the great
work of social development, cannot be wrong if it only causes the possibility
to be more remote of our parish being again favoured by gentlemen of the
Temple for such recreation.

" The numerous attendance of ladies at our lectures (some fair faces I
have never missed a week since the commencement of the session) is a
bright augury of success. We know that we have but to present objects
suitable to their tastes and competent lecturers, to ensure a full attendance
of ladies. "When I say objects suitable to their tastes, I am pre-opining
what I should find it'hard to define. There are persons who make ob-
jections to communicating a greater share of knowledge to women than
commonly falls to their lot at present; though I take it for granted that
Nature has been as bountiful of understanding to one sex as to the other.
That there is a ditference in the understandings of the men and women
we every day meet with, everybody, I suppose, must perceive ; but there
is none, surely. May not this be accounted for by the difference of cir-
cumstances in which they have been placed, without referring to any con-
jectural difl'erence of original conformation of mind ? As long as boys
and girls run about in the dirt and trundle hoops together, they are both

>

i

B

7

'cisely alike. If you catch up one half of these creatures and train
hem in a particular set of actions and opinions, and the other half to a
lerfectly opposite set, of course their understanding will differ, as one or
ther of these occupations has called this or that talent into action. There
surely no occasion to go into more abstruse reasoning in order to explain
very simple a phenomenon. There are some who cannot bring their
iinds to consider an extension of knowledge to ladiea, without connecting
with some sensation of the ludicrous ; but such should remember that
1 progress from absolute ignorance there is a period when cultivation
f mind is new to every rank and description of persons. A century ago,
lio could have believed that country gentlemen could be brought to read
ad spell with ease and accuracy, or that they could be carried up to
ie elements of ancient and modern history ? Nothing is more common or
lore stupid to take the actual for the possible — to believe that all which is
all that can be ; first to laugh at every proposed deviation from practice
. impossible, then, when it is carried into effect, to be astonished that
did not take place before. It is said that the effect of knowledge is
make women pedantic and affected. All affectation and display proceed
Dm the supposition of possessing something better than the rest of the
arid possess. Nobody is vain of possessing two legs and two arms, because
at is the precise quantity of either sort of limb which everybody possesses,
ho ever heard of a lady boast that she understood French ? For no other
.son that I know of, but because everybody in these days does under-
md French; and though there be some disgrace in being ignorant of
it language, there is little or no merit in its acquisition. Ladies bend
jir attention to more acquirements than they did a century ago ; but
|e2y are no less remarkable for attention to the arrangements of their
uusehold, no less inclined to discharge the office of parental affection,
bue same objection has been made at all times to every improvement in
ij education of both sexes and all ranks, and been as uniformly and
ipletely refuted by experience. There is in either sex a strong and
rmanent disposition to appear agreeable to the other; and this is the
Ite answer to those who are fond of supposing that a higher degree of
IfDwledge would make women rather the rivals than the companions
lumen. Presupposing such a desire to please, it seems much more pro-
' lie that a common pursuit should be a fresh source of interest than a
kase of contention. 1 ndeed, to suppose the opening sources of information
llliterature and the sciences to ladies can create a general jealousy and
Vilry between the sexes is so very ridiculous, that it requires only to
Btated in order to be refuted. The same desire of pleasing secures all
|tt delicacy and reserve which are of such inestimable value to women.
b; female understanding is capable of appreciating the highest and best
fcects ; and all affectation, charged by unthinking persons on female
hwledge, is best cured by making that knowledge more general. In
id Jeffry's review of the works of Felicia Hemans, he wisely and
laaantly says, ' When women have turned their minds (as they have
too seldom) to the exposition and arrangement of any part of know-
Ipe, they have commonly, we think, exhibited a more beautiful accuracy,
pQore complete justness of thinking, than their less discriminating
Ihren.' If ladies habituate themselves to attend to dignified and im-
liiant subjects, are we not multiplying beyond measure the chances of
Tian improvement, by preparing and medicating those early impressions
:h always come from the mother, and which, in a great majority of
kmces, are quite decisive of character and genius. Nor is it only in
Itbusiness of education that women influence the destiny of men. If

8

women knew more, men must learn more ; for ignorance would then be
shameful, and it would become the fashion to be instructed. ' II y a une
galanterie spirituelle aussi bien qu'une sensuelle," says Nicolle, one of the
most learned and pious solitaries of Port Royal. The attendance of
ladies at the lectures delivered in this hall improves the stock of national
talent, and employs more minds for the instruction and amusement of the
world. It increases the pleasures of society, by multiplying the topics
upon which the two sexes take a common interest ; and makes marriage
(with such as have that advantage over me) an intercourse of unde°r-
standing as well as of affection, by giving dignity and importance to the
female character. ' II ne suffit pas que I'artiste soit prepare pour le pubHc,
il faut aussi que le public le soit i ce qu'on va lui faire entendre.' It is
of great importance to a country that there should be as many under-
standings as possible employed within it. Mankind are much happier that
such men as Pope, Milton, Shakspere, and Scott have lived, and that sci-
entific men have invented barometers, thermometers, steam-engines, and
telescopes. This place has been, and still is, the residence of some of our
most illustrious countrywomen : Miss Landon was educated here ; Mrs.
Hall, the charming writer of Irish tales, and Mrs, Sommerville, whose
astronomical investigations have been surpassed by none of this age,
reside amongst us.

" When we see that Chelsea is becoming vast, populous, and full of
active life — and we know that every extensive community depends for it«
material prosperity on the successful cultivation of science, arts, and de-
votion to moral and religious duties — we must feel that no community more
strongly demands from the wealthy and influential every support, every
encouragement.

" This institution does not owe its origin to the hot-house influence of tlu
wealthy and the powerful. Its founders are its own industrious, intelligeni
and meritorious members : men with the most praiseworthy aspiratioi>
after all that is good, useful, and honourable. The natural wants of society
have given it birth; the just claims of society demand that the wealthy
should foster and support it. If our institution fail, if it fall from an
internal weakness, paucity of members, mismanagement, or any othei
similar cause, shame and blame light where they ought, on the heads
of those who, with experience to warn them and every support to en-
courage them, alike neglected and despised both ! But if it fail from want
of the support that the rich only can aflbrd to extend to it — if the cry for
education be met with coldness, or indifference, or opposition — then,
gentlemen, I say it most emphatically, wealth will have forgotten one o!
its noblest, one of its most imperative, duties. But I will not anticipate
the result. I believe there is in Chelsea an ardent devotion to the cause of
education, so as to leave no doubt but its inhabitants will rally round
us — ay, gentlemen, if for no other reason than to show that, amid all
the heart-burnings of party strife, there is some neutral ground, there is
one hallowed spot where discord cannot come, where our only contention
will be how we can best prove our gratitude for the boundless benevolence
of God, by promoting the virtue, the happiness, and the welfare of HiS'
creatures.

" If people are ill-disposed and mischievous, surely that is the best;
reason that can be oflTered for teaching them better; and if they are not,
surely that is a reason for giving them an opportunity of vindicatioglj
their' reputations, and they cannot have a better one, I think, than Wm
opportunity of associating together, voluntarily, for such high purposes^!
it is proposed to carry out in the West London Literary and Soientifioi

9

Institution. In any case, if you would reward honesty, give an en-
couragement to the good ; if you would stimulate the idle or correct the
bad, education, comprehensive, liberal education, is the one thing needful,
and the one effective end; and, if I may render into plain prose some
words of Hamlet, not with reference to any government or party (for
party, being for the most part an irrational sort of thing, has no connection
with the subject in view), and if I may apply those words to education
founded on these great principles, as Hamlet applied them to the skull of
Yorick, I would say, ' Now hie thee to the council-chamber, and tell them,
though they lay it on in sounding language and fine words an inch thick,
to this complexion they must come at last.'

" Can there be a difference of opinion in this meeting, that education,
in its mo3t comprehensive form, is at once a never-failing source of indi-
vidual happiness and the surest foundation for national greatness ? These
institutions are, in the language of Dr. Lankaster, in this room, ' the
colleges of the middle classes.' Let us direct the youth of Chelsea to
the portals of our institute, and say to them, slightly transposing the
words of the elegiast,

' For knowledge to thy eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoil of time, shall here unroll.
Nor penury repress thy noble rage
Or freeze the genial current of the soul.'

In fact, the youth of Chelsea have come to us with eagerness and crowded
to the classes we have formed. That for vocal music is under the superin-
tendence of Mr. "Walter Johnson ; for French, under Mons. Wattez ; for
architectural drawing and perspective, under Mr. T. W. Guillod ; for
landscape and figure drawing, under Mr. Varley ; for arithmetic and
elementary mathematics, under Mr. Hall ; and a class for elocution and
discussion meets weekly, when I have heard addresses from young men
that would receive applause in the British parliament. I had the
pleasure of presiding at three adjourned discussions on the question of
abolition of the punishment of death, and was much gratified at the talent
shown in debate by the young gentlemen of the class. The subscriptions
to these classes is almost nominal : but two shillings a quarter, with first-
rate instruction.

" In the pursuits thus suggested to you, we would mingle the dulce with
the utile ; and, with Tranio to his friend Lucentio, who, you may re-
member, came to study at Padua — the Chelsea, we will suppose, of Lom-
bardy, 'the garden of fair Italy' — say to you,

' Glad that you thus continue your resolve

To suck the sweets of sweet Philosophy ;

Only, good masters, while we do admire

This virtue and this moral discipline,

Let's be no stoics, nor no stocks, I pray ;

Or so devote to Aristotle's checks

As Ovid be an outcast quite abjured.

Talk logic with acquaintance that you have,

And practise rhetoric in your common talk ;

Music and poetry use to quicken you ;

The mathematics and the metaphysics.

Fall to them as you find your stomach serves :

No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en.

In brief, sirs, study what you most affect.'*

* Taming of the Shrew. Act I, sc. 1.

10

This is friendly counsel ; and the performance we have this night enjoyed,
and expect to enjoy, proves that music has not been studied in vain.
The strains we have had from Mr. Streather might take Mr. Jones and
myself, who have some "Welsh blood in our veins, back to the times of

' Highborn Howel's harp

whilst I can assure Mr. Jones, Mr. Renshaw, Mr. Mansell, Mr. Kemp, Mr.
Ascroft, Mr. C. Lahee, and Mr. H. Lahee, that I listened with unmixed
pleasure to their performances on the violin, viola, flute, and violoncello ;
though the rich flow of harmony from Beethoven's famous quartet, played
by Vieuxtemps, Delofree, Hill, and Piatti, at the musical union, is fresh
in my ears. If such be the proficiency attained by barely a year's prac-
tice together, we need not leave Chelsea to seek elsewhere for amateur
excellence in this charming art. In the drawing class there is encouraging
progress, and by the next anniversary we shall have specimens of your
performances. Hesiod says wisely,

which we may translate,

' To little honour can that man be brought
Who's neither wise nor willing to be taught.'

Here, 1 am delighted to say, you are all wise enough to be willing, and
willing enough to be wise.

" To aid this endeavour, Mr. Parsey made arrangements with various
professors; and to his judgement in the selection we owe whatever pleasure
we have enjoyed in listening to them. Those lectures have purposely not
been of that severe cast which more matured members of a longer esta-
blished institution would naturally desire to hear. Supposing that most of
you had acquired some elementary knowledge of natural philosophy, the
first lecture of the session was ' chemistry.' Chemistry is so closely con-
nected with natural philosophy, that the study of the one must be incom-
plete without some knowledge of the other ; for it is obvious that we can
derive but a very imperfect idea of bodies from the study of the general
laws by which they are governed, if we remain totally ignorant of their
intimate nature. Of course, one lecture could effect no more than afford a
general idea of the value of the science. We shall have others from
Mr. Griffith, the accomplished Chemical Professor of St. Bartholomew's
Hospital, on the same subject. We fully intend to make you acquainted
with the principles of the wonderful agencies of steam, electricity, and ex-
plosive power. With a little costless hot water we can be propelled up-
wards of eighty miles an hour in a comfortable carriage, and, during the
time we have been in this room to-night, journeyed from this metropolis to
Liverpool. By the second, we can

' Speed a thought from Indus to the Pole,'

and outstrip the hitherto unsurpassed swiftness of steam communication.
The third result of the spirit of investigation of the present age has, I trust,
a higher moral destiny. Every improvement in science involves conside-
rations of the highest importance to the welfare of the human race ; a
proximate cause of these discoveries being in a great measure the extinction
of the calamity of war. Its chivalry will indeed then have departed, and
the contest, so long as it remain, will have none of those brilliant episodes
of human action which are the ignes falui of hero-worship. No more

]1

' An iron harvest on the field appears
Of lances, burnished shields, and bristling spears;'

or,

' The various glories of their arms combine,
And in one fearful, dazzling medley join ;
The air above, and all the field beneath,
Shine with a bright variety of death.'

Science goes on sharpening the mystery of murder, until wholesale destruc-
tion loses its cruel charms from their very want of excitement. The
experiments made and making on that useful article cotton prove that, after
contributing so largely to the national prosperity in times of peace, it is
likely to play a very conspicuous part in the strategies of war. I only hope
that the inevitable nature of its powers of destruction may deter us from
using it for such a purpose. The days are fleeting fast for awarding the
highest honours to the destroyers rather than to the preservers of our
species — for bestowing baronetcies on rocketraakers and peerages on the
fortunate leaders of strife. The days are going when the deeds of demons
shall have sympathy in a civilised age. The Fredericks of Prussia, the
Charles's of Sweden, the Louis's of France, or her greater scourge,
Bonaparte, may never more be seen, if the propensities of the brute be held
in less estimation than the faculties of the accountable being. The plunge
of the piston will then excite more trulj' patriotic fervour than the ring of
the ramrod ; and the harmless gusts of dissolving steam than the sulphu-
rous suffocation of deadly explosions, that now find favour in the ears and
noses of heroes.

" The favour accorded to dramatic readings has induced us to make them
rather a frequent feature ; they will continue to be so. Dr. Lankaster's
lectures on the natural history of plants yielding food have been well worthy
of the attendance and interest excited. We heard, and perhaps too much
for some of our cherished predilections, rather astonishing news of our
everyday acquaintance. We had hitherto thought, when we had traced
our baked, boiled, roasted, and toasted to the simple elements of meat,
earths, fruit, vegetables, and water, that we had got to the root of what we
ate and drank. Dr. Lankaster told us we had not begun our inquiries at
all, and proved to us we had been digesting fifty-five elementary bodies,
partaking of five great elements, all the while, carbon, hydrogen,
nitrogen, and oxygen entering into the composition of all plants ; that we
are indebted to the phosphate of lime in oals, barley, and wheat for their in-
vigorating qualities. We were then set a-thinking about the properties of
protein, vegetable and animal fibrine, albumen, and gluten, that exist in
• our food. In these days, when the selection of articles of food depends as
much on our purses as on our appetites, a knowledge of economical pro-
portions of nutriment is of the highest importance to us. Our undue de-
votion to potatoes has met with sad discouragement ; but a more opportune
time for inconstancy it were impossible to find. Whilst eating every pound
■ of potatoes we are drinking three quarters of a pound of water, about a
quarter of a pound of starch, less some fraction of an ounce of fibrine ;
though it is but poor comfort to tell us that there is more nourishment in
two pounds of wheaten bread than in fourteen pounds of potatoes, now that
two pounds of best bread cost sevenpence. However, it is well to know
how to economise sustenance ; and it is a duty to practise the knowledge
we have acquired. Fourteen pounds of potatoes, at their present retail
; I)rice of twopence a pound, cost two shillings and fourpence, and is three
I times dearer food than the best bread. Some little cherished kindness for
< cocoa, sago, tapioca, arrow-root, and chocolate has also received a damper.

12

However, the sugar, being in high favour with the doctor, can be added
with the vvine or syrup, and may still keep up our faith in their strengthen-
ing qualities. We can endure all these reflections for the handsome things
he said about tea. I, for one, since the doctor's lecture on the twenty-ninth
of January, have taken industriously to tea. The thein is an acknow-
ledged component, containing one of the four requisite elements of all food
in very respectable proportion. We shall hope to enjoy Dr. Lankaster's
instructive lectures again in the next session.

"No man of science could acquit himself more admirably on such ex-
tremely delicate and difficult ground as anatomical inquiries, before a mixed
and unlearned audience, than Dr. Pettigrew. Though in considerable
practice, and incessantly occupied as lecturer on anatomy at St. George's
Hospital, in the handsomest manner he gave us gratuitously three very
interesting lectures, on the eye, on diseases of the skin, and on the ear. The
happy manner in which his clear explanations were communicated we all
remember, and shall hope to hear repeated.

" To Dr. Anthony Todd Thompson we are particularly indebted for three
lectures enriched by the long experience of his useful life.

" Fortunate in claiming amongst our members the eloquent Mr. George
Thompson, we have listened with delight to three most interesting lectures
on the history, manners, resources, and religion of our Indian fellow-
subjects ; and we are promised another by the same gentleman. These,
with the use of his valuable maps and drawings, have been given without
any charge to the society.

" I say thus much on the leading features of the past year, as the at-
tendance at the general meeting was slender. You were all satisfied, I
presume, with what you had seen and heard, and expected to have a
detailed report sent you to peruse at leisure. That report you will have.
You will perceive that our outlay is small in proportion to the number of
lectures given — the library we have on the spot, consisting of about five
hundred volumes — the library of which we avail ourselves (consisting of
twenty-five thousand volumes in all the European languages — the reading-
room, on the tables of which are found seven daily papers, six weekly ones,
with sixteen leading reviews and magazines. This is open from an early
hour in the morning to late at night. When we consider the beauty of this
lecture-hall, its central position, and the commodiousness of our house, we
have much reason for congratulation; and when I tell you that for all this
and for unwearied attention to every contingency that arises in the main-
tenance of our institution, we are indebted chiefly to our honorary se-
cretaries, Mr. Parcey and Mr. Lahee, you will agree we have incurred a
heavy debt of gratitude to those gentlemen. Their names, I am sure, will
always be held in affectionate remembrance by us all.

" 1 trust we shall not be long without a local museum, formed according
to the peculiar dispositions and opportunities of our members. Whilst one
party or individual is engaged with local mineralogy or geology, another
with local natural history, a third with local antiquities, a fourth is occu-
pied with local statistics and economics ; and all, more or less, pass through
a course, of all others, to themselves and to their districts, the most beneficial
— a course of thorough study of those very matters in which, one way or
other, they are for the rest of their life most likely to be engaged. In the
mean time, the collection proceeds without drawing on your purses — the
materials are found in your daily walk. Where communication is so easy
and science ready to avail itself, at the earliest notice, of every discovery,
the more complete these museums, the quicker must be the general pro-
gress of all science. What a traveller looks for (as Mr. Wyse well observes,

13

in the second volume of ' The Central Society of Education'), on arriving
at a town, is not what he has left behind him at another — not indifferent
duplicates of the great collections of the larger towns — but what is special
to the town itself. We had not opened our doors a month, before one of
our most esteemed patronesses (Miss Horne) presented us with a handsome
box, made from a cedar-tree, of considerable local interest, planted by Sir
Hans Sloane. I would mention that we have plenty of room for gifts.
Every one of you, however restricted his sphere, can contribute his quota
to the stock, and, as far as in him lies, and often beyond what he can easily
imagine, assist in forwarding the progress of science.

" Our library consists already of five hundred volumes, many purchased,
but mostly the gifts of Mr. Whitehead (the entire set of Encyclopaedia
Britannica), Captain Smylhe, R.N., F.R.S., Messrs. C. Greetham, George
Thompson, T. J. Faulkner (our local historian and antiquary), J. K.
Chambers, E. O. Symons, J. Jones, Rev. Dr. Buckland, C. Pycroft, T. L.
Jeffree, Rev. E. Rudge, J. P. Hall, Rev. Dr. Wilson, J. H. Kaye, J. H.
Prachell, C. S. Varley, J. Law, W. Goshng, C. E. Green, J. W. Gilbart,
H. A. Fawcett, J. Fuge, W. Long, C. Lahee, J. M. Loveland, J. Watts,
Miss C. Lake, Miss Whitehead, and music by Messrs. J. P. Evans and
R. Mansell.

" Our present number of subscribers, whether annual, quarterly, or ladies,
amounts to upwards of four hundred, and increases each week. At the
first anniversary dinner of the institution, the sum of £52 was contributed
by friends and members. I had the pleasure of inviting Colonel Wood,
one of the members for this metropolitan county, to preside, which he did
very efiiciently, expressed his warmest wishes for our future prosperity,
and confirmed his good will by a substantial proof of it — a donation of
ten guineas. His noble colleague Lord Robert Grosvenor showed also a
hke kindly and generous disposition to assist our object; for, after a con-
versation 1 had with his lordship at his house about it, he presented me
with a cheque for a like amount. I am much gratified to mention Lord
Morpeth's reply to an application I made to him. We certainly have no
claims upon a nobleman of his high position as a cabinet minister, and
entirely occupied with the important duties of his department, and knowing
the calls he so liberally responds to in the county he represents in Par-
liament. Having lately had the honour of dedicating a slight historical
work to his lordship, I ventured to state how warmly I was interested in
the prosperity of this institution, and how highly we in Chelsea should
appreciate some slight token of his lordship's good will; which was
answered by a note, enclosing a cheque, with his best wishes for our
success.

" Chelsea expects much from the noble lord, and I fully believe she will
not be disappointed. We are aware that the department over which the
noble lord presides stands pledged to improvements in this neighbourhood,
vaster in their extent than any it has undertaken since the conversion of
the Marylebone fields into Regent's Park. We have every reason for con-
gratulation that a nobleman so distinguished for his enlightened taste,
discrimination, truly patriotic views, and, ' last, though not least,' for his
efforts in the cause of education, presides over the board of metropolitan
improvements. I trust the noble lord will long continue to enjoy the con-
fidence of his sovereign, and we may then speedily realise the enjoyment of
Battersea Park and a continuation of the terrace from Cheyne-walk to the
new palace of Westminster. I read with pleasure his lordship's addresses
at similar meetings to this, of the Bradford, Leeds, and SheflSeld mechanics'
institution*, and we should do wisely to profit by his suggestions for their

14

management. As I said before, we are at this time peculiarly fortunate in
having a nobleman who has testified an interest in our young institution, chief
commissioner of crown lands; his interest in what all admit will prove
conducive to the intellectual advancement of Chelsea, convinces us that the
improvements I have alluded to for its ornament, as well as for its health,
will be carried out to the fullest extent permitted by the legislature. Let
Lord Morpeth carry out the plans he has at heart, and let the legislature
support them, and no minister will be remembered with more gratitude to
latest posterity. May we live to see this terrace, not taken from useful or
profitable occupation, but borrowed from the unwholesome mud shoals of
the Thames, planted with rows of fair elms, a broad carriage-way in the
midst, and a water-side causeway for pedestrians, similar to the quais on
each bank of the Seine, in Paris — a continuation of our own admired
Cheyne-walk, in fact, to Westminster-bridge; and mansions, spacious
warehouses, and structures of all kinds, worthy of such a river as the
Thames, will grow up, as if by enchantment, upon its margin. The hud-
dled sheds and tumble-down tenements, that now shut us from the sight of
it, would vanish. Only think what a beautiful sight would be a Cheyne-
walk or a Temple-garden, miles in length, opening an avenue of fresh air and
a new element of health to the entire population of this vast metropolis, as
much a blessing as a beauty ! Imagine how much longer we should live,
how much more healthy, and, therefore, how much more happy, we should
be, if, when wearied with confinement, enfeebled by sickness, or oppressed
by toil, we could enjoy in its plenitude the health and pleasure of living by
the river side. We have ruthlessly defaced the banks of the king of
English rivers :

' Strange that -where Nature loves to trace.

As if for gods, a dwelling-place,
There man, enamoured of distress,
Should mar it into wilderness.'

However, an opportunity for retribution to Father Thames appears at
hand, and for redeeming our characters as marrers of Nature for Mammon.
The science of sanitory economy is worthy of your consideration, and I
trust we shall hear some lectures on the subject, and timely suggestions
tendered to the commissioners just appointed under our new local Act for
rendering innoxious the principal gas generated by sewage matter-
making the matter itself profitable; considerations highly useful to us in
Chelsea, where streets and squares are rapidly covering every yard of
ground. Not fifty years ago, for the greater part,

' Whereupon it stands
The vacant winds did wliistle, and the laughing sunshine
Sported in wild freedom.'

We shall acquire, too, in our institution elementary science to enable these
gentlemen fully to digest plans for the prevention of smoke; for better
ventilation and warming of our dwellings; removing the mud-banks
that now disfigure the sides of the river, and whence the most noxious
exhalations are constantly arising; and, in accordance with the beautiful
arrangement of Nature, by which the rejected parts of animal life become
the food of plants, and the excretions of plants necessary for the healthy
condition of man, I would recommend the planting of every extinct
graveyard and open place as thickly as possible with trees and minor plants,
so as to provide the lungs of those unfortunates who are compelled to
breathe the contaminated air of London year after year with a little oxy-
gen; the want of which the alarming increase of bronchitis so painfully

demonstrates. Permit me to add, how conducive it would be to saluLrity
were our new houses built with flat roofs, so that a luxuriant growth of
plants in pots and boxes might be obtained. Young life, we shall find, can
now scarcely be supported, and the mortality of infants has increased to
eighty per cent. How beautiful were the cities of old! Superb foliage and
(lowers were waving on every side. Jonah went through Nineveh, a day's
journey. Imperial Rome never contained much more than a million of
souls, yet its sanitory precautions were such as we cannot hope to realise
for many generations. The utility of institutions like ours will be invalu-
able if these objects be promoted, and therefore I trust you will not think
iny digression irrelevant. Our purpose of making' this institution an
idvanrage to Chelsea shall, I am determined, be carried out as far as my
'lumble means can contribute ; and, with your assistance, success, I may
renture to say, cannot be distant — at the same time, I must confess, my
)bject in joining you is in reality a selfish one — ^sensible of my own great
leficicncy in elementary science, I would acquire knowledge : we are never

00 old to learn.

" I will now conclude in the closing words of the report laid before the
irst general meeting : — ' Finally, the Council of Management would beg to
mpress on all who have already given their support to this institution,
hat it has at present only attained its first anniversary, and consequently
. . ill for some time require their fostering care ; and it is their earnest hope,

1 hat, with increase of years, it may acquire an increase of vigour ; and, by
iiteadily accumulating the advantages of a more matured experience, con-
tinue to deserve and command the sympathy and encouragement of the
..habitants of this populous neighbourhood.' "

Mr. Lloyd resumed his seat amidst much cheering ; and the musical
tertainments recommenced by the ladies and gentlemen of the vocal
nusic, glee and madrigal, and instrumental music classes; to which Mr.
.. Buckland lent his valuable assistance, singing several of John Parry's
pular buffo songs with much taste and humour.

The meeting separated at a late hour, highly gratified with the enter-
..inment provided for them, which reflects great credit on Mr. Charles
ahee, the Honorary Si-cretary, by whom it was arranged. Such an enter-
.inment was never before given in Chelsea; and all felt, in the words of
lie Chairman, that a new social existence was called into being in the
trict, by the establishment of such a point of union as this institution
omises to be.

SENTIMENTS PROPEE TO THE PRESENT
TIMES:

m INAUGURAL ADDRESS,

BT THE

Vtv^ meb. tfie ^tm of Bnt^m,

DBLIVBBED AT THB

OPENING OP THE NEW BUILDING
ov

THE GATESHEAD MECHANICS' INSTITUTE,

APRIL 10, 1848.

GATESHEAD:
PRINTED fly W. DOUGLAS, OBSERVER OFFICE.

Price Twopence.

INAUGURAL ADDEESS.

Ufr. Chairman, Gentlemen of the Committee, and other
eembers of this Honourable Institution, — Permit me to say
it you acted, in my opinion, both with correct feeling and
llh good sense, when you confided ihe office of addressing you
! this very important occasion to a minister of religion. For
~u thus took the best means to extinguish what I hope I may
11 an almost obsolete prejudice against institutions such as
urs, namely, that, because they are oi a character not essen-
Uly religious, and have objects not immediately connected
,h religion, they are, it not in their intentions, yet in their
'isequences, dangerous to religion. Now, as to intentions,
lat I am here now, on your invitation, certainly proves thus
och — That you, at least, are desirous to combine the learning
I'.his world with that higher wisdom which shines on us from
ove. It proves that you have determined, now and hereafter —
this inaugural day, through the generations to come,
och will perhaps look back upon this day and celebrate it —
associate your perpetuity with eternal truth, and to conse-
ite your knowledge by your faith. For though, as you may
il suppose, I have no desire of addressing you now as on a
rred occasion, or of usurping for a moment the office which
nr excellent Rector performs so ably and so faithfully, yet
I have a right to expect some gravity in my discourse — some
.;ture of those spiritual and moral meditations which are
litual to the servants of God. That you, then, have sought
i intercourse with me, will be to every rational man a
rantee for the purity of your intentions.
iat as to that more general imputation of evil consequences,
frbich I have referred, I must at once declare that I think it
njudicious as it is most false. To say thai all progress in
iedge not religious is hostile to religious belief — that to
ngthen the intellectual powers is to make men sceptics and
lels — is it not to proclaim that there is something unsound.
It least suspicious, in the foundations of that belief? Is it
>a slander on our faith — is it not an insult on God's revela-
to cry, that the more generally we are instructed and
med, the less probably shall we cleave to ill But this is
»80. By men of earnestness and gravity it has ever been
I that natural and scientific acquirements are only subsidiary
he proper comprehension of divine truth, and that the
est exercise of reason best prepares us for its acceptance.

4

For, indeed, the pursuit of science is no other than the porsuit
of truth— pure, naked reality, is the single object of all such
researches. And, surely, the mind which has been disciplined
to pursue truth under one of its many forms, will be that most
likely to adhere to it under every other— to become accurate in
the perception of it, and zealous and honest in its investigation.
And let us confirm this argument by an example :— Among the
most perfect intellects that have yet appeared upon earth, was
undoubtedly that of Sir Isaac Newton. And not one of you is
ignorant that Newton contributed largely to the support of
revealed religion — that to this superior purpose he held bis
sublime discoveries to be subordinate, and applied to it the
spontaneous energies of his mighty understanding. Let us,
then, dismiss for ever a notion equally offensive to our reason
and our faith, and proceed to topics more immediately connected
with the objects of this assembly.

There is one all-comprehensive principle on which God has
founded tile social system of his family upon earth; and it is
this : — That universal benevolence, rightly directed, will produce
universal happiness. The partial operation ol this principle,
though much hindered by human imperfeciion, may be observed
in the success of various institutions, for charitable and literary
purposes, by which we are surrounded. The necessity for these
]s created by our mutual dependence. We are interwoven with
each other in everything that we do, in everything that we
sutfer. We can take no step, either for good or for evil, without
contact with our fellows. It is the law of our existence; and it
has been imposed on us wiih this manifest object: — That our-
common wants may be relieved by our mutual exertions; that'
our common joys may be enhanced and our common afflictions*
softened, by reciprocal sympathy; and that we may assist each*
other in every endeavour for the general improvement of ourj
species.

Yet it does not by any means follow from this that all asso-f
ciations formed with views of social advancement, and witbf
professions of universal benevolence, are fitted to attain their?
object, or even to promote the particular interests of those who*
compose them. ^

There may exist combinations of men holding forth su
objects, and even earnestly bent on their attainment, but pui
suing them by schemes and theories so fanciful, so like dreams:, i
so far remote from sound reason and practical possibility, as {
not only to defeat their ends, but to give them an opposite I
direction — towards ungrounded disaffection and irrational insu- i
bordination. By such errors these men would bring about tl
violent dissolution of the system of society under which th<
live, without substituting, I say not any wiser, but any intelli
gible, any possible system in its place. Combinations of this {I
formidable description will not, however, find much favour I
among a people gifted with the natural sagacity which for tl
most part distinguishes the working classes of this countn
and which will protect them from the contagion of wild acts
and absurd expectations, to be followed by most ruinous disap-
pointment.

5

There may be others, not so dangerous, but of a character at
St doubtful— combinations for purposes merely physical —
do not mean, intending outrage or any other illegal proceeding,
ut having some material, some pecuniary advantage in view —
:-eking, for instance, to secure some fixed, determinate com-
ensatioD for labour, without relerence to circumstances which
e never fixed and determinate, but are always changing — a
mpensation which revolutions in every commercial system
ay, and must, at certain periods, make it impossible to render,
herefore it may be doubtful, I say, whether such associations
nd upon the whole to the benefit even of those who compose
□em — andif not of those, certainly not of tbecommunity at large.
Then wherefore is it that in casts such as these the objects of
"rovidence appear to be thwarted, and probable mischief to
suit, where progress and improvement are intended'? It is
roueh the general ignorance — the noninstruction and misin-
ruction of the men of whom such societies principally consist
ith specious pleas and popular pretensions they seek impos-
bUilies. Under attractive titles, and really many of them
'th very good designs, they advance to the perpetration of
ial evils. And why, again I say, is this? It is because
eir natural good sense has not been taught, nor their reason
ined. They are uninformed in the fundamental principles
f political, commercial, and industrial economy. They have
ot capacity to distinguish sound but unpleasant argument
om plausible and flattering sophistry. They cannot properly
'iiscern between that which is just in principle and capable of
ecution, and that which is seemingly partial to themselves,
t which would really be injurious to all, and to themselves
cot least of all, if it were not impracticable. Consequently,
then times of difficulty arise, they are placed very much at the
iiercy of a tew men of suspicious ability, oold and fluent dis-
L)urse, and interested designs.

In saying thus much I am sure that you will give me credit
r entertaining great respect and the very best wishes for the
asses of whom we are speaking. But, indeed, I have no better
ish or prayer to offer for them, than that their information
ay be enlarged and their intelligence enlightened. And
lerefore it is, that from these considerations I turn with
light to institutions such as this. For they are instruments
• advantage unalloyed, as far as I can see, by any evil, or
nger of evil; and if they be liberally and judiciously regu.
(.ted, they may become the means of extending to the very
amblest classes the benefits which they need most.
And hence it is that this day is not without importance —
lat this building is not without honour — not among you alone,
ho have raised it, and now throng it with an honest and just
•ide — not only among your associates and your neighbours,
at in some measure among the whole body of your country-
een. For it is another mansion set apart tor the advancement
'''civilization. It is another temple dedicated to the improve-
(ent ol mankind. It is another monument of the triumph of
Msdom and benevolence. For, thanks be to God, the truth is
»w universally accepted, that the growth of knowledge is the

6

growth of happiness and virtue. And fortunate are you, my
younger friends, that your lot has lallen on an age in which
that truth is thus accepted. You have not witnessed the op-
posing struggles of prejudice and bigotry. You have not beheld
the spirits ol darkness in possession of half the sky. You have
not contended against the expiring rage of intolerance and
tyranny. The battle has been gained lor you by the brave and
good men of the generation which is now passing away. It is
your easier task to gather up the spoils which they have left
you : or, let me rather say, to cultivate the boundless territory
which they have won lor you— to enrich it by the fruit ol your
own labours, and to transmit it in multiplied fertility to the
generations which are to follow. But in your glad and peacelul
prosperity you must not forget the names of the men who have
fought this fight — but rather cherish them, and lay them up
among the great benefactors of mankind. And if you would
erect to their glory the meoLorial which they will value most,
present to them, not a monument made with hands, but a
spiritual and imperishable offering :— offer them qualities of
progressive excellence in yourselves — offer them a purer mo-
rality, more deeply rooted piety, more generous principles oti
conduct, loftier hopes and aspirations, a more fervent and coal'
preheosive charity.

And now, let us say a few words on this subject of populai!
education, to the immense importance of which this nation is
at length awakened from its long and discreditable indifference.
In the first place, we must not be surprised that various andj
even discordant opinions have arisen in regard to it, and have'
been urged by their respective advocates with much warmth.
It was impossible that so complicated a question — involving
such great interests, and so many probabilities and contia:
gencies, extending through all futurity — could be discussed by
a thoughtful, independent, and Iree-speaking public, withon^
much variety in the views even of the friends of the cause,
shall not now invite your attention to any ot those views; bat
I will place before you one consideration, which has not beei
so frequently proposed as it deserves, and on which there can
exist no difference. ,

The demand lor increased facilities for the education of the
children of the working classes has been so loud and so general—
the duty, the necessity, of providing those facilities, has been-
so vehemently proclaimed — the advantages that will sprinS'
from them have been represented as so sure and boundless—
and all this in language often very indefinite and exaggerated—.,
that it becomes time to address some wholesome admonition to;
the classes for whom all these efforts have been made. And VOi
this end I shall place this matter before you simply and pre-J
cisely as it stands. And, first, I must request you to observei^
how very narrow are the limits to which this school-education f
is confined — at how early an age the child is, almost of neces
sity, torn away from the school, and hurried into the business.,
and handiwork of life. Observe, I repeat, for how very short *«
space even the most judicious exertions ol those who provide
instruction for your children can act upon them, and ho^"

1

11

7

anty and imperfect must be the information conveyed to tbem.
ow what results from this i That you are to refuse the good
lat is offered, because it is not all you want? No! far from
lis! What then? I will tell you. That you must not trust
those scholastic provisions alone. You must not imagine
lat any efforts of others, whether individuals or governments,
in secure to you, or to your offspring, the possession of know-
d^e, or sense, or any high degree of intellectual or moral cul-
vation. You must trust to yourselves for that. We can do
1 more than lay the foundation— the superstructure must be
It' work of your own bands.

At what age, you bear it asked, does education, in its proper
use, end? At twelve — or thirteen — or twenty? No, no,
y friends! The wise man's education ends only with his
te. Every day adds some new lesson to the day which has
receded it — if not in the arts, in the sciences — if not in the
leoces, in history, geography, antiquities — if not in any of
lese, in that at least which is more important — in conduct —
I the art of walking uprightly before God and man — in the
;ience of moral discipline, founded on religious principle,
his, indeed, is what is most essential in the education of the
ly ; but it can only be made perfect by the spontaneous, self-
irected perseverance of the man. Do not deceive yourselves.
1 throwing open new schools for your children, we profess no
I ore, we can no more, than to sow the mere seeds : they
lust be nourished and ripened by yourselves — by your own
ilisence — aye, and by your own sacrifices, too. All that we
in do is to supply the means. We arm you with an imperfect
eapon, which you may allow to rust and perish if you please —
which you may so mould and sharpen as to turn it into the
-trument of worldly prosperity and everlasting good. AH
r-psnds on the use that you shall make of it. You must not
pose, 1 repeat, on any form of external aid, public or private —
It you must throw yourselves on the energies of your own
mis, and on the spirit that is within you. Public grants or
nvate benevolence can never impart knowledge, or intelli-
t nce, or virtue, to the sluggish, sensual, unaspiring mind,
iey can, indeed, open to yon the prospect of nobler things —
V can lend you the wings on which you may reach those
^hter regions, if you will — but they cannot lift you up from
; j dull, torpid clay, if, perversely and stupidly, you will lie and
mvel there.

If, then, there is not one among you who does not see that
Ti< is true, what better course remains for you than to frequent
titutions such as this? If se{/'-education be that to which
1 must mainly look for distinction in middle life, and for
iDifort and respect in your declining years, how wise an act it
- in you thus to associate for purposes of self-instruction and
nutual instruction, and to apply your voluntary powers to your
ntellectual and moral elevation ! It is here that you will turn
account the rudiments of knowledge which you received as
It is within these walls that your reason, curiosity,
agination — which the schoolmaster can do little more than
■ke and set in action— will be strengthened by the discipline

8

of good books and wholesome lectures, and by careful medita-
tion on what you read and hear. Thus will you not only pre-
serve all the elementary lessons of your earlier years, but also
construct upon them the respectability, the consolations, and
enjoyments of after-life.

And you may do still more than this. It is by such studioni
perseverance as is here within your reach, that the highest
achievements of science are prepared ; and even from this place
may go forth men — like Black, or Watt, or Franklin — to whom
I might add contemporary names scarcely less eminent — men
who will not be contented to master existing difficulties and
acquire known truths, but will enlarge, by new discoveries, the
boundaries of human knowledge.

And why not? You possess the means, if you will but use
them. God has refused to no man, of whatsoever station,
curiosity to seek for information, or power to receive it. But
to you, besides. He has given the instruments to acquire it—
and, I trust, the disposition to employ them. Here you have
access to valuable publications, suited alike to extend your
knowledge, to enlarge your intellect, to inform your taste, and
to direct your conduct. You may explore the treasures of art
and nature, if you will. The secrets of antiquity are disclosed
to your investigation. The wonderful book of history lies opun
before you, wherein you may read the exploits of the mighty
spirits of former ages — and so read them as to detest oppressior.
and fraud, injustice, intolerance, insubordination — as to admirt
and emulate whatever has been excellently and greatly done,
for the peace, the freedom, the virtue, the dignity of man-
kind. In the brighter field of poetry, you will find relax-
ation from severe mental toil, and gather some peaceful orna-
ments of elegance and reSnement. But, more than all these,
the study of astronomy, of natural theology, of natural history,
will raise up your minds to the contemplation of those marvel-
lous creations of unbounded Might and Goodness, which,
though they do still in some measure partake of the mysterious
character of the Power which made them, yet give evidence,
clear enough to every impartial and thoughtful mind, that
there is a Hand above which controls and regulates all that we
see and know — all that we think, and feel, and do— according
to the will of a wise and inscrutable Intelligence.

These are the higher descriptions of information to which
you may here aspire. But when you descend from them to
subjects more confined and practical— as when you investigate
the principles of various trades and professions— those, for
example, which you may yourselves severally exercise— and
when you learn from such study why it is, as well as how it is,
that certain results are obtained, so that the work of the hands
is guided by the superintendance of the intellect — how great a
gain is even this! how profitable in the daily business and
intercourse of life ! Thus instructed, what an advantage yon
possess over that more numerous class, it may be of competitors,
to whom the mysteries of the operations which they perform
are not unfolded, and whose lives are spent in mere manual
labour, unenlightened by any comprehension of the reason

9

I'b directs that labour, and of the causes <vhich make it
i active.

And besides the profit, there is likewise the pleasure, the
iile, of these acquirements. Those among you who have
^tcred with exertion the principles of some abstruse science
vhich you are interested — as, lor instance, the science of
mistry — and then applied those principles to things before
Lir eyes and in your beads — to you I appeal, whether the
lyment that you have received has not far more than recom-
~ed the toil ? And that enjoyment, too, how pure, how
lourable, how worthy ot a rational soul and an immortal
-tination! How much more keen as well as pure — how
uch more deep as well as noble — than tbose dull sensual
aiQcations, misnamed enjoyments, which are but too com-
iinly engendered of ignorance, and are the one sad, pitiable
Miurce of the unambitious and barren soul ! Thus even your
reations — (and they are no unimportant element in these
usstons) — even your amusements are refined and purified
11 vice, by the same means which improveyour faculties and
mote your temporal prosperity.

I bus much has been said generally. But as you may expect
to make, before we separate, some reference to your own
'icular institution, I will do so, at no great length. I shall
iine my remarks to two of your regulations — those by which
) exclude from your discussions, and most properly exclude,
y-politics and controversial divinity,
ft, in respect to the former of these subjects — politics — I
less it has often occurred to me, that the principles of
eral politics — which term I use as opposed to the term party
tics, and by which I mean those acknowledged principles
which are founded our political rights and our political
ii:s — our proper offices as citizens, as members of the same
al community — I have often thought, I say, that these
riciples ought to fill a more conspicuous place than they do
I in the education of all classes of the people. Indeed, I do
remember ever to have seen any elementary work so com-
t d as to display a compendious view of those principles ; to
for instance, how a graduated subordination is essential
lie existence of every form of society — and how any theory
:[jiversal equality in wealth and condition is at variance, not
y with reason and experience, but also with nature; which
- distinctly laid down the opposite law, and made all men in
Host all respects unequal — to show, that inalienable duties
rt' imposed upon all classes, high as well as low, by the same
ial organization which protects tbeir property and their
iits — to point out the mutual relations by which the several
^es depend upon each other for their mutual welfare — to
ke it clear, how any evil which may befal any one of
-t; will sooner or later be largely shared by the others —
11(1 how national greatness, and public and private happiness,
■ pi nd upon the cooperation and concord of all. Now, I
link, my friends, that if these principles, which no rational
lan disputes, and which are in fact at the bottom of all that
call politics, were generally inculcated as a part of education,

10

we should reap the fruits in some increase of that beneGceot
use and application of property on the one side, and ot that
orderly intelligence, that enlightened and well founded content-
ment on the other, which form together the surest guarantee
for domestic peace. This sort ol knowledge, it it shall confer
power, will confer at the same time discretion in the use of
power — it will show the proper objects of power, the proper
limits within which power may be exercised. It will teach
men their rights, social and political; but it will teach them
their duties also — for every right involves a duty, or rather a
number ol duties — and men are generally much more ready to
claim the one, than they are to perform tbe other. Indeed, my
friends, if I were to apply this remark to that description of
political right most familiar to you — the rigbtof tbe franchise —
bow many are those in this kingdom who exercise tbe rigbt
and neglect the duty; or, I should rather say, never so much
as consider or feel that there is a duty — a serious and sacred
duty — which, like all other duties, ought to be honestly,
faithfully, and fearlessly discharged.

I think that if the above and other similar principles were
generally taught and understood, political discussions would
rise above the character of party disputes, and might, with
propriety and advantage, be permitted. At present you do well
to prohibit them.

So do you likewise in regard to the other subject referred
to — at least until that promised day shall arrive, of which the
very dawn can scarcely be said to have broken on this genera-
tion— the day wherein religion shall become a bond of union
and a pledge of love, and all the families of the earth shall
adore the same omnipotent and merciful Lord and Saviour, in
His own spirit of charily and peace.

A few parting words to you, my younger friends, and I will
release you. You are constantly bearing it said — and, in tbe
main, truly said — that knowledge is power. Tbe meaning of
this is, that mind will certainly, step by step, get tbe better of
body — that intellectual force will always, in the end, prevail
over physical force — that honour, and prosperity, and authority
will rest principally with the best instructed and most
enlightened. This is nothing more than the progress of civili-
zation. It is only that tbe world is becoming wiser as it
becomes older, and less barbarous as it becomes wiser. It is no
more than the triumph of the worthiest principles of action and
the purest principles of nature over the basest and tbe vilest.
Now, it is to you, no less than to the highest orders in society,
that tbe path of this progress, the gates of this knowledge, are
thrown open. Much intellectual ability — nay, much refinement
and taste for the pleasures of useful speculation — may be com-
bined with hard and humble manual labour : — and so combined
with it, as both to augment its produce and to lessen the sense
of its severity. Even, I say, in tbe humblest ofBces, you may
find leisure and means enough to fortify your faculties— the
powers by which you perceive, imagine, remember, reason, and
feed your curiosity by tbe acquisition of new and extraordinary
facts. Here, where we are now assembled, you may prepare

11

the great struggle of life which awaits you; and you may
Lilify yourselves to engage in it, not as in a mere competition
r 11 better physical existence, but with bolder hopes and
^her purposes. Yes! and you may so succeed, my friends, as
l ival those honourable men of former times, who, rising from

I ir condition, have achieved some of the brightest results of
luntific discovery; and your names, like theirs, may hereafter

repeated by the lips and inscribed on the grateful hearts of
revering posterity.

I I is a proud thing to entertain this hope ; but there
'. still better thing than this — and I should flatter you
' I not to say it. It is a prouder and a better thing so
discharge your various duties that you may always carry

lur own earthly recompense in your own bosom, not despair-
- of those future rewards which are not of earth. Believe
noy friends, and engrave these words on your hearts, when I
are to you, that the proper end of all human knowledge is,
to adorn the understanding or to raise the reputation, but
nlarge and ennoble the character — to make you honest and
pright — to make you fearless of everything but shame— to
move you far away from every imagination of baseness,
hatever is just, whatever is honourable, whatever is consistent
ith virtue and truth, court and cherish tJiat, and uphold the
inciple in your breasts, as the inflexible director of your
tions. And be well assured that the labours which have not
liU effect, whatsoever seeming success may attend them, will
accounted to you as vanity.

i^ut if you will gather, along with your knowledge, that
.'ions and moral excellence which it is the highest office of
■wk'dge to impart and nourish, then, indeed, will you stand
h as examples tor the respect and imitation of those around
(I. And while you display to them a moral self-control illus-
att'd by habits of virtue, you will possess within you that sense

I -ell-dependence which is the best guarantee for worldly suc-
^, and that self-respect which is ctne of the surest sources of
I Idly contentment. Being more moral and intelligent as indi-

iiluals, you will become more patriotic, and at the same time
-ore powerful, as citizens. You will offer inviolable obedience
' the laws — you will pay willing reverence to the existing insti-

I I ions of your country — those, especially, by which the govern-
nt, civil and religious, is upheld and directed. Of course I
not mean a blind, irrational reverence. You will seek, no
ibt, to amend those institutions — to remove defects and
:i;ishes, which, as you may think, disflgure them. But you

ui not hastily raise your hand to destroy or wound them. For
"iir reading and reflection will have taught you how difficult
1 uncertain is the work of reconstruction ; and how imperfect,
r all, have been the best-contrived schemes ever devised by
in for the government of his perverse and impatient fellow-
1 in. Oi one thing only you may be assured, my friends. As
• <t advance in life and tboughtfulness you will attain a con-
I ion, not perhaps very agreeable to the young and ardent
II 'I, but true— that there can be no important, and, at the
'<'• time, permanent improvement in the social condition of

12

any people, except through the general progress of intelligence
and information. And this conviction will teach you, that in
such matters the less violent is commonly the more judicioni
counsel, and that the soundest result of wisdom consists in
moderation. At the same time, it is proper to observe, that
many beneficial causes are now working in this country —
silently and peacefully working, but for that reason the more
powerfully and effectively — which will greatly accelerate the
progress of which I spoke; so that you, my friends, even in
your generation, need not despair to enjoy new and important
advantages and privileges, which the ordinary course of eventi
will surely bring you— unless the detested hand of Discord
should interpose, and cut off the blessing.

I spoke of self-respect. While you respect yourselves, you
will respect others likewise. Indeed, you will constantly
remark that the men who most deserve respect are the most
prompt to pay homage to the deserts of their neighbours. To
those who, in the usual expression of the world, are termed
superiors, you will ofler that free and courteous deference which
is called good manners, and which is consistent with high
spirit and conscious worth. In your dealings with those belo»
you — and this is a more mtfterial question — you will emplor
kind expressions and friendly deeds. You will observe thei
capabilities; you will have compassion on their wants; y
will ever strive to impart to them some share in those advan
tages, intellectual as well as physical, in which you surpa^-
them — and thus to raise them, as you raise yourselves, in tli-
gradually ascending scale of human excellence. And this con
sideration, which I deliberately submit to you last, is amoni'
the most important of all that I have addressed to you ; seeint'
that, if we would rightly estimate either the interests of
humanity or our own interests, the improvement of the very hum
blest orders ought to be the principal object with us all. Now
this, my friends, must very materially depend on the aid and
encouragement that they may receive from you — because you,
being chiefly, as I presume, of the middle class, are the order
most in contact with them — the order next above them— the
link by which they hold, in the heaven-appointed concatenation
of society; From the great and powerful they can receive little
direct assistance, because they have little immediate intercourse
with them ; and, therefore, it is to your countenance— to your
sympathy — that they must mainly trust, next to God and to
their honourable industry and energy, for a more elevated con-
dition of existence.

These simple observations I have addressed to you, to the
end that I may persuade you to pass in rational occupation and
studious self - improvement hours which may otherwise be
wasted in folly or polluted by vice— but which, when applied to
the cultivation of your character, to the enlargement of your
knowledge, to the regulation of your intellects, will fit you for
any station to which it may please God to call you, and enabie
you, by His aid and blessing, to run with pleasure, withhoooar |j
and success, the race that is set before you.

A SERMON

IN THE

EVILS OF EDUCATION

WITHOUT A RELIGIOUS BASIS,

PREACHED IN YORK MINSTER,

ON SUNDAY, SOth OF SEPTEMBER, 1844,

BY WILLIAM COCKBURN, D.D.,

DKAX or YOTSK.

LONDON:

'V\Hl'rTAKKU ANJ) CO., AVE IMAUIA LANE; AND
BELLEKHY it SAMI'SON, YOUU.

c

7-mCE SrXPEKOE.

SERMON, &c.

If any man among you seemeth to be wise in this world
let him become a fool that he may be wise. for
the wisdom of this would is foolishness with go d.
— 1 Cor. iii. 18, 19.

The vanity of human wishes and of human pur-
suits has long been a fertile subject of remark to
writers both antient and modern, A Roman poet
enumerates all the objects which ever are, or ever
are likely to be pursued by man, and proves that
not one of them is worthy of pursuit." That writer,
brethren, had never heard of the kingdom of
Heaven ; and, therefore, he knew not where only
to direct the efforts of man's rational hope.

We can easily agree with him that honors and titles
are empty sounds — that they please for a moment,
but bring no permanent or solid satisfaction to the
heart. But wealth many will say, and almost all
by their actions seem ready to say — wealth is surely
worth possessing and well worth acquiring. Is it

4

not a fit object for man to endeavour to procure
the means of benefitting his fellow creatures, of
obtaining good instructions for his children, and
of exercising all the various charities of life ? Yes
surely, and if such were the usual modes of em-
ploying wealth, we could not deny or doubt that
it would be a worthy object of man's pursuit. But
ex])erience, brethren, universal experience, tells us
that it is not so. Wealth is usually employed to
administer to luxury, to selfishness, to pride — it
more often leads to evil than to good^ — it bribes
companions in wickedness — it occupies the mind
with an object of intense and ever increasing in-
terest, and draws it far away from the consideration
of heavenly things.

But if wealth and honors be of dubious value,
still may we not press upon the youthful mind that
wisdom and learning can never be too highly
estimated ? Happy is the man, says Solomon, that
findeth wisdom. For the merchandise of it is
better than the merchandise of silver, and the gain
thereof than fine gold ; she is more precious than
rubies, and all the things thou canst desire are not
to be compared unto her. True, brethren, and
justly speaketh this gifted man. But then, remem-
ber. He speaks of that wisdom which is founded
entirely on religion. The fear of the Lord is the
beginning of such wisdom. But men pursue but
seldom that heavenly knowledge. It is to know and

understand the things of earth, that youtli covets
education, and that matnrer age spends hours, and
days, and years, in constant and laborious contem-
plations.

The public mind in this kingdom, and particu-
larly in this place, is agitated and occupied with
schemes for diffusing far and wide, nay universally,
the benefits of education. Subscriptions are called
for to effect this object, and good and sensible men
meet frequently together to consider how best those
subscriptions can be employed to produce the most
extensive effects. May we not then wisely enquire
if such universal diffusion of knowledge is certain
to increase the happiness of man, and whether
there may not be a limit which it should not pass ?

First let me ask, what is the use of knowledge ?
I mean the knowledge of earthly things. If it
expands the intellect, and leads the mind more
thoroughly and more readily to appreciate the
value and importance of Heavenly things, then is
it indeed, as Solomon says, better than rubies. But
if it begins and ends — and means to begin and end
in mere mundane pursuits— it is likely to produce
more evil than good.

How little does it benefit or advance eternal
objects to acquire a knowledge of sounds uttered
by such voices as shall soon be mute for ever.
Can a Spirit debtincd for clcrnity be satisfied with

6

ascertaining the affinities and attractions of earthly
particles which are soon to vanish away? Yet
does the acquirement of such knowledge, vain and
limited as it is, too often fill the heart with pride,
that universal weed, and makes the little pigmy
called man to fancy himself a Giant and able to
assail the Throne of Jove.

Oh, turn, thy thoughts from contemplating thy
little self to meditate on that vast tremendous
existence who made the bonndless ocean and the
vast capacious globe, and shrink into thy real
insignificance. Thou hast laboured in vain, thou
hast spent many tedious hours to make clear
and to understand tliat which thou canst never
thoroughly understand — the secret nature of some
earthly product. Whereas there is but one subject
•worthy to eniploy the faculties of a rational being ;
but one question to which he should assiduously
and constantly seek an answer.

Shall man when he dieth live again ?

In other words shall his faculties revive — shall he
again feel pain or pleasure ? If this question be
answered as it will be answered by the Spirit within
us, and by the voice of Revelation in a confident
affirmative, then may I rationally inquire further,
— can I by any means while staying here on earth
affect my state hereafter ? Here, brethren, is a

7

subject which cannot fail to interest every human
heart.

We know — without any philosophic information
— we know it is almost the only thing we do
know, — we know that we can stay on earth but
a little while, a very little while. The places that
see us shall see us no more. And then when we go
home — what then ? Jesus Christ informs us, and
our natural feelings lead us to think that; we shall
live again in exquisite joy or in dreadful misery
during ages beyond human calculation. Is it true ?
Is this future existence lationally to be expected ?
Was Jesus Christ a messenger from God, and was
all which he told us sure to come to pass ? How
awful — how grand — how glorious the prospect
before us. Oh, fix the n)ind upon this hope —
consider it — dwell upon it — and till you are
satisfied on this all important subject let not the
pursuits of the vain unproductive objects of human
wisdom employ the hours of reflection in which
tliat hope of Heaven might be confirmed.

These worldly studies if kept subservient to the
higher interests of eternity, exercise the under-
standing and teach it more thoroughly to appreciate
the works of the great Creator. But, alas ! how
olten do they lead through the perverseness of human
nature to an opposite end? A little progress in
science, a little ])re-eminence in literature, fills the

8

mind with a lofty notion of its own superiority,
and makes man indisposed to receive that doctrine
which proves him to be but an atom in the
universe — the creature of an hour — and after that
hour to be overwhehned perhaps with darkness and
despair.

How is it that so many men of learning and of
deep thought have been opposed to Christianity-
Voltaire, and Hume, and Gibbon, and I grieve to
add La Phice. Dare we suppose that after much
reflection and inquiry these eminent men concluded
that our religion was a fable ? No, brethren, it was
pride — human pride — the pride of superior talents
that made them refuse to consider proofs, to hear
arguments, or to suffer conviction to enter into
their minds — a conviction which could only be
accompanied by a sense of their own littleness. It
was the same when Christianity first appeared, — the
learned Scribes, the haughty Pharisees, the Chief
Priests opposed it, and shnt their eyes to all the
miracles before them. The philosophers of Athens
doubted, and Celsus, and Posphyry, and Julian — all
men of learning — united themselves to'shut out the
light from Heaven. They would not hear the
arguments which were offered to them, but met those
arguments with a sneer. If such be the universal
tendency of human learning, may we not caution
those who lead the young in the way of science to
be cautious lest they gradually undermine and

9

destroy that solid and substantial hope which may
cheer them in the hour of sorrow and smooth the
bed of death ?

The fear of God is the begidning of wisdom ; aye,
and the end of true wisdom also. The knowledge
of God is the only knowledge worth possessing ;
and to acquire a faith in Jesus Christ is to acquire
the only real happiness and peace and joy. "David,"
said the aged mother of Hume to her learned son,
" thy sophistries have taken from me that which I
" once cherished in my heart — which softened every
'^calamity and heightened every good — and what
" hast thou left me in return ? the empty vanities of
" human pride. Oh go not about, as thou art wont,
" from place to place, to propagate a cold and cheer-
" less philosophy, to dry up the well of living water,
"to poison the cup of salvation."

How careful then, my brethren, should we be
that in directing the studies of youth, we always
begin with giving them a knowledge of Heavenly
things — and that we base all further acquirements
upon a true and thorough faith in Jesus Christ.
Without that basis all human knowledge is not
only useless, but absolutely injurious. It puffs up
that poor weak creature — man — persuades him that
he is superior to the fading creatures that surround
him, and thus operates in direct opposition to that
religion — whose characteristic — whose peculiar
characteristic is humility.

!0

The sense of the weakness of our nnderstanding
(says an antient author) which is tlie gift of humi-
lity is a temper of soul that prepares it for faith —
partly as it puts us in a serious consideration of
those things which are revealed to us — partly as
it stops all curious inquiries into those things
which are unsearchable, and principally as it
entiles us to the promise — God giveth grace to the
humble. And if worldly wisdom thus draws us
insensibly from this necessary imitation of Him,
who was meek and lowly of heart, what may
we not ask with the aged matron, what can its
cold and useless disclosures give us in exchange for
that glorious hope of home, which cheers the weary
traveller on his way, lightens the burthens he is
doomed to bear — and leads him to his God ?

The Office of the Christian Minister,

A

SERMON,

PREACHED AT THE VISITATION AT SOUTHWELL,
MAY 7, 1839,

BY THE REV. CHARLES FLETCHER, M. A.

VICAK OP CADNTON.

SOUTHWELL.

MDCCCXXXIX.

c

WniTTINOHAM, PRINTER, SOUTBWBtl.

A SERMON.

2 Corinthians, ii., 16.
mho is sufficient for these things ?

^When Moses at the Burning* Bush received his
ccommission from God, constituting- him the deliverer
cof his Nation from the bondage of Egypt, he was
[)Overpowered with a sense of his own inability to
eexecute the work : who am I, he replied, that I should
Yfo unto Pharaoh, and that I should bring forth the
'dhildren of Israel out of Egypt ? And when the
Israelites for their transgressions were given over
into the hand of Midian, and Avere so grievously
oppressed that they betook themselves to dens which
ihey made in the mountains and to caves and strong-
Holds, then God appointed Gideon to save them
from the hands of the Midianites. But Gideon also
•felt that the task was beyond his power. Oh my Lord,

4

was his reply, wherewith shall I save Israel ? behold
my family is poor in Manasseh, and I am the least in
my father's house. And so did Saul feel in his better
days, and so did he express himself when placed at
the head of God's peculiar people. And on more
than one recorded occasion David felt the same :
though one of the ablest of God's honoured instru-
ments, yet when assured by the prophet Nathan of
the future greatness of his race, and that the throne
of his Kingdom should be established for ever, over-
powered as it were by a feeling of the weight of such
a dignity, he says, who am 1, O Lord God ! and what
is my house, that thou hast brought me hitherto P These
all felt and acknowledged the same thing. The
object that was proposed to them might be in itself
great and glorious, but it was not in them, or in any
compass of means which their sphere of influence
could control or command, to accomplish it : the
dignity and honor might be vast and all-desirable,
but it was not in themselves to sustain it. Neither
did God leave them to themselves ; but, on the con-
trary, he supported and sustained their minds under
the sense of their own incompetency and nothingness.
To the desponding objection of Moses, on the occa-
sion alluded to, the Almighty answered. Certainly J
will be with thee. The like promise. Surely I will be
with thee, animated the confidence of Gideon ; and
all the Agents of his early dispensations were made
to feel and understand that the works in which they

5

were engaged were not their works, but the Lord's.
The Lord shall fight for you, and ye shall hold your
/)eace. Their dignity arose from being honored with
Mis commands ; their glory, from His condescending*
to use them as His instruments ; their privilege, from
being admitted to a nearer view of His works and
His perfections ; and their reward, from promptly
;ind implicitly following His direction.

And thus it still is under the Spiritual Economy
i)f the Gospel. In this respect, as in so many others,
the Law was but a shadow of what was to succeed
it. In the great work which God is carrying on
mder the Economy of Grace, he condescends to
make use of Ministers and Agents, but still the work
IS not theirs but His. Their unassisted power is no
uore the cause of the effects produced under their
iiinistration, than was the rod of Pharaoh the cause of
the parting asunder of the waters of the Sea, or of
the gushing of the stream from the Rock. To con-
vince the conscience of Sin, and to renew the cor-
rupted heart, is no more within the compass of the
[)owers of Man, than it would have been possible for
he single strength of Moses to withstand the whole
iiiition of Egypt; than for one to chace a thousand, or
'ivo to put ten thousand to fiight. And while God,
'»r the purpose of declaring this great truth, made
ise of such illiterate and humble instruments in the
list promulgation of the Gospel, and during the

6

period of His miraculous interference, as placed it
beyond all doubt or dispute, He supported the
minds of those humble instruments, and of all who
should succeed them in after time, by the very same
consolation which he gave to his ancient servants,
and even in the very same words ; Lo, I am with you
always, even to the end of the world. The Christian
Minister and the Ancient Leader are in all essential
circumstances alike ; — both equally instruments in
the hands of the Most High ; both charged with His
commands to their fellow men ; and both having
ends to accomplish beyond their own unassisted
strength. The Christian Minister is powerless in
himself, yet he seems, like the prophet of old, to have
the power of Him who sent him placed at his dispo-
sal. Mighty through the spirit, he becomes the
medium through whom a supernatural agency is
exercised. To some he is the savour of life unto life,
while to others he is the savour of death unto death.
Well might the apostle exclaim at this thought, who
is sufficient for these things P The charge is indeed
most serious, and the responsibility, I had almost
said, awful ; but in the same proportion is the piivi-
lege great, and the reward of the faithful glorious.

Pursuing the strict parallel no longer, I purpose,
nevertheless, in the observations which follow, to
enlarge on the leading ideas of it, as far as may be
consistent with practical utility on the present occa-

7

ision ; bespeaking your candour at the same time,
imy brethren of the Ministry, whose experience in
^general is greater than my own. These observations
tthen, as you may have anticipated, will be confined
tto the Nature of the Ministerial Function ; and that
IFeature of it which naturally comes first to be con-
ssidered is the Arduousness of the Office.

I. The educational preparation for the Gospel
ministry is at least equal to that of any other pro-
ffession, both in the range and the depth of the studies
Awhich it comprises ; and it may be said indeed of
tthis preparation, with more truth perhaps than of any
(Other, that it is never completed. The examination
I of the oracles of God, especially at their source in
tthe original languages, is continually leading to new
sand interesting inquiries and results, all affording
Uight and confidence to the mind of the Christian
.'Minister, and all capable of being rendered in some
way profitable to his flock. The history of the
(Church offers a vast and rich field for his research j
aand the faith with which he inspires others, and with
which he rests himself on the great doctrines of the
(Gospel, cannot but be strengthened by his tracing
ithem in an unbroken line from the first ages of Chris-
ttianity, and by his finding in his course that the early
DFathers of the Church saw them in the very same light
linwhich we now see and understand them. But these
rresearches, laborious though they may be, form no

8

part of the arduousness of the sacred office. Many,
in ahnost every age, and in none more than the pre-
sent, have been found sufficient for these things.
St. Paul thoug-ht not of these when he made the
exclamation of the Text ; indeed he accounted but
as dross all human learning-, and evei-y earthly ac-
quirement. No. The arduousness of the office of
the Christian Minister consists in the greatness of
the end to be effected under his ministration. That
end is nothing less than the restoratwn of the fallen
nature of man — the conversion of the souls of men ;
and the turning them from the power of Satan unto
God. The expressions employed in Scripture to
denote this change sufficiently bespeak its magnitude.
It is a change from darkness to light. It is a change
even from death unto Ife ; a breathing upon dry hones
in order that theg mag live. And who but God is
sufficient for this ? Did the Gospel propose less
than this ; were its object but to improve the human
condition, by pruning the luxuriance of Nature, by
restraining the excesses of vice and passion, by raising
the tone of morals, and polishing the social character,
easy in comparison would be the work, and within
the legitimate compass of human means. But the
scope of the Gospel is far higher. Its object is to
renew, not merely to mend, the heart to rebuild, and
not merely to repair, the moral fabric ; — not merely
to cause men to put a restraint upon their vices, but
to make them new creatures. The Gospel treats

9

with men as guilty before God ; and the Minister
jstands before his brethren with an oiFer of pardon,
iiand with terms of reconciliation. He is charged to
jset before them their lost condition, and to represent
tthem and himself in the light of rebels. They are
Ito be made conscious of sin and guilt ; to acknow-
ledge the righteousness of God's dealings ; to re-
mounce all claim to His favor; to cast themselves
eentirely on His Mercy ; and without hesitation or
ccavil accept of the terms of pardon as they are offered.
EBut the obstacles that oppose the entrance of these
iiumiliating truths into the heart are very great ; nay,
iiumanly speaking, insuperable. Human pride and
ihuman ignorance have been ever in array against
Ithem. They have always been stumbling-blocks to
«ome, and been accounted foolishness by others ; but
iRtill it has been the good pleasure of God by this
foolishness of preaching to save them that believe.
Ilhe attempt on the part of God's Minister to fasten
Don the conscience that humiliating sense of Man's
utter unworthiness and helplessness which is requi-
site for his acceptance with his Maker may excite
tiisgust in some ; it may be scoffed at by the levity
and carelessness of others ; it may produce no effect
whatever on many in consequence of their natural
stupefaction and insensibility to spiritual things 3 he
liiiay be regarded as an unnatural character, a mes-
senger of dismal tidings ; and his earnestness may be
deemed fanaticism and frenzy : — No matter ; — he

10

has no other course ; — he speaketh only that which
hath been put in his mouth : he must not turn aside
to the rig-ht hand or to the left ; nor shrink from de-
claring- the whole counsel of God. He knows whose
message he bears, and that God can, and will, when
He sees fit, remove the obstacles that lie in his way.
He knows that to those who by his means receive
the Truth, that reception becomes to them the turn-
ing- point of the Christian life. It is the foun-
dation of the hope of the Divine favor ; it is the
commencement of the renewal of the heart and life ;
it is the beginning- of a desire of holiness, and of a
striving after the glory and approval of God ; it
is the first stirrings of that mysterious breath which
is the great instrument in the regeneration of those
who are born again to God.

The arduousness of the Office of the Christian
Minister is increased by a variety of circumstances.
He is not a mere passive instrument after all.
Though the work is not all his own, he must labour
as though it were. He must plant and he must water
with as much care as though the increase also were
from himself. If he slumber upon his post, the souls
committed to his watch become the prey of tlie
enemy. Humanly speaking, every thing depends
on his exertions. He must come out from amongst
those with whom he has in his youth associated, and
stand up in his new character often before men to

11

\\hom he is well known, and faithfully deliver to
them his Master's message ; which to many minds
is a work of more difficulty, and calling up a greater
effort of moral courage, than if he were required to
leave home and kindred, and appear in the same cha-
racter and deliver the same message to distant and
lieathen nations. He must, in his social intercourse
M ith others, neither countenance the vanities and fri-
volities of life, nor assume the garb of austerity and
i Lgloom j but he must hold a path, not easy to trace
and to keep, between the two, as the representative
of a gracious Master, who equally desires the happi-
ness and the holiness of his creatures. He must
indeed be anxiously careful that his own life furnish
an example of the doctrines which he recommends.
He must know that any moral delinquency in him
xtends its hurtful influence to others also ; and even
iffects the Cause itself in which he is engaged : since
it gives occasion to the enemies of God to blas-
pheme, and is a cause of fainting and falling back
) the faithful and sincere. He must not remain
atisfied with low attainments in goodness, but eudea-
<)ur after the /)er/ec flow of the Christian Character.
And with the harmlessness of the dove he must unite
the wisdom of the serpent. He must penetrate the
recesses of the heart, and know the weaknesses of
human nature, and the delusions of self-love. He
must be aware of all the wiles of a most subtle ad-
versary, and alive to all the arts he is constantly

12

practising" in his eternal warfare against the Truth.
He must know the latent prejudices and corruptions
of man, and how the Enemy of Souls works with
these, and upon these, in order to prevent the light
from darting into the heai't, and conviction from
fastening* itself on the conscience. And even when
the first impressions have been made, and some ad-
vance begun, and the Christian has given up his
good opinion of himself, and his dependence on
some vague and indefinite notions of the Divine
goodness in general, still the artifices of Satan are
not wanting to turn him back in his course, or to
divert him aside from it. The Father of lies will
leave nothing untried to arrest the progress and com-
pletion of the Christian work. He will endeavour
to cause some to rest in a few acts of outward observ-
ance, and to be mere formalists in religion. He will
supply to others false grounds of confidence and con-
solation. He will sug-gest to those who have at
some time felt apprehension and alarm on account
of sin, that this very feeling is of itself enough to
secure them from further fear; and thus that whole-
some pain, which was intended to lead them to a
change of life, becomes the prevention of any change.
Against these and every other species of self-decep-
tion the Minister will ever be putting his people on
their guard. The tendency of these delusions is to
palliate, not to remove, corruption ; to heal over the
surface, not to reach to the core, of the wounds of

13

>in. Aware of the irresoluteness and inconstancy
with, which the soul seeks after eternal good, and
A hat strong" and powerful hold the world and the
kings of the world have on the affections, he will
ver be furnishing motives that may tend to weaken
he influence of the things of time, and give strength
aid reality to the objects and interests of an endless
ternity.

II. While thus earnestly engaged in his Master's
\ork, watching for souls as one that must give
iccount, and as if every thing depended upon him-
elf alone, the Christian Minister still feels his total
usufficiency in himself, and depends, for the realizing
1 1 his hopes and the crowning of his labors, on that
)iviNE Agency which he knows to be co-operating
» ith him. It is true the agency of the Spirit is all
luseen : — there ai*e no interpositions of Heaven
low, whether of mercy or of judgment, as in times
>r old ; — no open and visible manifestations are
.lade in return to faithful prayer; — no ravens sent
I) convey bread and flesh to the hungry ; — no mi-
;icle wrought to prevent from being consumed the
\ idow's meal and oil. God does not now bear wit-
less with signs and wonders to the preaching of his
Ministers. No : these have all ceased with the exi-
jiicies which called them forth, and the purposes
iiey were then designed to answer. They were but
l»e tokens and manifestations of purer and higher

14

thing's, — the shadowings out of that spiritual eco-
nomy in which they were all to terminate ; in which
spirit would be elevated over matter; the unseen
over the visible ; and the lineaments of the image of
God be again rendered legible in the second birth,
the new creation of man. As in the heavenly bodies,
the harmony and regularity of the motions of some,
and the fixedness of others, in the regions of illimi-
table space, are the results of a few simple laws
which impress the mind of him who can trace them
with the highest ideas of the Infinitude of the Divine
wisdom ; — so is it also in the realms of Grace.
T/ie agency of the Spirit is the settled lam of Christ's
Church ; — a law silent and unseen, yet the efficient
cause of all the varied phoenomena attendant on the
repentance, the conversion, and the sanctification of
the sinner. The language of revelation is all in unison
with this fundamental article of faith ; and even where
it is not directly affirmed it yet seems to be taken for
granted, whether in the historic narrative, the didactic
precept, or the epistolary communication. It is not
ye that speak, said our Lord to his disciples, but the
spirit of your Father which speaketh in you. St. Paul
assumes not to himself the merit of his own labors :
yet not 7, hut the grace of God which was with me.
To the Philippians he writes, it is God. that worketh
in yon both to will and to do of his good pleasure.
Strange, that such a doctrine should not have met
with all acceptation ! that, besides the numbers that

15

i entirely disreg'ard it, there should ever have been
found any to deny it ! But how else could the scrip-
tures be fulfilled ? Babes in knowledge as well as
in grace, these cavillers require that the objects of
the invisible world should be made obvious to sense ;
they want, in every instance, the chariot of fire and
the horses of fire, in which Elijah went up hy a whirl-
wind into heaven. But the Christian in his own
experience feels the best proofs of the Agency of the
Spirit j and the Christian Minister in particular finds
it a peculiar source of consolation, exactly adapted to
his circumstances and his wants. It operates in
unison with his efforts, giving him the assurance that
his sufficiency is of God. It acts as a spirit of con-
viction on those whom he is instrumental in awaken-
ing ; and as an indwelling and sanctifying principle
in the hearts of believers. He strives after a large
measure of this Spirit for himself, and prays for its
abounding in his flock. Depending upon another,
he is thereby kept ever watchful and ever humble ;
yet at the same time he feels that he is not left alone.
He is not depressed by doubt and uncertainty as
to results, when those results are in the hands of
God. He compares not the ends to be accomplished
by himself with his own limited powers and resources ;
but, trusting to Him with whom nothing is impos-
sible, he acquires a holy boldness, even to say with
St. Paul, / can do all things through Christ which
slrengtheneth me. Throughout the universe of things

16

there is a most harmonious analogy. In the regions
both of matter and of spirit God is all in all. In
the operations of Nature and the ordinations of
Providence, whatever is seen under the sun, or is
done amongst men. He is the doer thereof : and, in
the Mediatorial kingdom, every visible means and
every apparent instrument are but secondary and
subordinate and exterior portions of the Divine
Agency: Not by might, nor by power, but by my
Spirily saith tlte Lord of Hosts.

III. Having thus dwelt on the arduousness of the
Office of the Christian Minister, and the ground of
his strength and support, I find I must forbear, from
want of time, to speak, as I could have wished, on
the dignity of our office, as well as its privileges and
rewards. I name not its dignity to flatter our vanity,
or for the purpose of magnifying om-selves ; far from
it : but we have the sanction of the Apostle for
magnifying our office. No one can succeed in any
pursuit for which he does not feel some attachment
and enthusiasm ; least of all in that where no degree
of zeal and ardour can be disproportionate or mis-
placed. If ever we allow ourselves to grow indifterent,
or to think coldly or lightly of our calling, from that
moment our arm is paralysed, and our strength gone
from us. The permanence of these interests which
are afi'ected by our office is alone sufficient to con-
stitute its dignity. They are the only interests, the

17

tonly objects, to which any thing' certain or durable
(Can attach. All else is transitory and uncertain,
iand bears the impress of vanity and nothingness.
'The fruits of learning, and the discoveries of science,
sand the splendours of art, — the embellishments of
i social life, and the safeg-uards of human law, — all
Ithese, however valuable, and however essential to the
'well being of man and the developement of his
ipowers and resources, are, nevertheless, parts of a
ssystem of things which is destined to pass away.
The end of all things is at hand. An hour is coming,
lis even now near, when we shall know that nothing
ssublunary is worth a thought, and when the g-reatness
lof eternal realities will fill every power of perception
vwe possess. The nature also of our occupations and
eengagements is of an elevated kind. We cannot
Ibut perceive that the material part of the creation
was formed for the sake of the immaterial ; that the
fheavens and the earth, the darkness and the light
vwere made but to be subservient to the functions and
tthe powers of man j and that, of these faculties
and powers, his Moral Nature is that which is the
highest, and which brings him into the closest con-
mexion with the Creator. Now it is with this, the
highest part of his nature, that we have to do : to
his accountability as a reasonable and moral being
have we to direct our appeal. Our object is to esta-
blish in the breast the dominion of conscience ; to
illuminate the soul with heavenly light ; to deliver

18

the will and the affections from the bondage of cor-
ruption ; to cleanse the heart from the stains of
guilt ; and, in short, to point and lead the way
whereby men may be restored to the Divine Favor,
and be made the Sons of God. And what an honor,
ray brethren, to be so employed ! Nor should you
consider it less a privilege. You ai"e permitted to
enter within the inclosure, and to come up into the
mount : you are allowed a nearer approach, as it
were, to the Father of Spirits, and admitted to a
closer view of His ways and His doings. You stand,
it may be said, in the council of God. Your situation
gives you great advantage in overcoming the love of
the world, and in keeping alive in your hearts a
spirit of devotion. You cannot be in the same
danger with others of being taken by surprise, and
unprepared for your great account ; since it is yours
to stand on the watch, and give notice of the bride-
groom^s coming. You can hardly fail, while dis-
pensing the waters of life to others, to drink of them
yourselves. With you there is no clashing of yom*
views as men with vour interests as Christians : your
duties to the world, your duties to your families,
your duties to yourselves, and yom- duties to God are
all one and the same. You are in the surest way to
form correct notions of things. The opportunities
you have, in attending the beds of sickness, and in
witnessing there the altered estimate which the soul
forms of the relative values of the objects of Time aud

19

of Eternity, when it is withdrawing- from the one and
approaching to the verge of the other, are calculated
to preserve you from the universal delusion under
which the World lieth, and under which it is content
to live on. A large portion of your thoughts is even
now occupied with what must engross them through-
out eternity ; and your proper business and pursuit
is that one thing needful, which is the great and im-
mediate end of human existence, and from which
alone is derived to Time all its momentous import-
ance.

May you, my brethren, feel the power of the Spirit
seconding and sustaining you under the arduousness
of your calling- ; and while sensible of the dignity,
and appreciating the privileges, of your sacred Pro-
fession, may you be animated to patient perseverance
by looking forward to your rewardm that State, where
they that he wise shall shine as the brightness of the
Jii'mament, and they tfuit turn many to righteousness
as the stars for ever and ever.

1. WniTTlNOHAM, PRINTBR, SOUTinVKLL.

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