animal vigor triumphed over effeminacy, and thus a healthier stock was furnished whereupon to graft whatever was valuable in the institutions and discoveries of the o'd world. The crusades made the various parts of Christendom acquainted with each other, and taught Europe to know herself, and the limits of her power. The institutions of chivalry, though their merit, in this respect, has been overrated, certainly did much to elevate woman to the just rank, which she now holds in society. The monastic establishments rendered an invaluable service to the cause of letters, by preserving whatever was precious in ancient literature. Christianity, it is true, had degenerated into a cumbrous system of rites and ceremonies, scarcely less burdensome than the Mosaic law. Yet even these corruptions were but the outward covering which was absolutely necessary to secure the living principle within from inevitable destruction at a time when its spiritual worth could not be felt or understood. The religion had but entered into its chrysalis, to prepare for a new and glorious liberty. And Christianity, even in her corruptions, was never false to bumanity. Even then she distributed her charities without stint to the poor, the sick, and the ignorant. Even then hospitals and schools and liberal alms distinguished Christendom from the rest of the world. But why speak of doubtful things? Is it not notorious that the period which we are defending gave to the world the most important instruments of civilization which it has received from any age? We need mention only the art of printing, which gives form and perpetuity to thought, and brings distant ages and climes into intimate connexion. We need mention only the magnetic needle, which has brought the ends of the earth together,the discovery of a new continent, which has furnished a new school for man, and last, not least, that grandest of all discoveries, which opened the way for civil and religious liberty, the right of private judgment, and the paramount authority of every man's own conscience as a rule of action. These are the things which make society what it is, are the gifts of the Middle Ages. What other age has given so freely and so well? We are yet living on the products of those times, and long will it be before we have exhausted the resources which they have provided.

these

It is not necessary to our present purpose to trace any immediate connexion between these improvements and the

Christian religion. The fact that they have originated under Christian influences speaks for itself and it speaks loudly, it shows us not that they could not have sprung to life without the aid of the new religion, but that the religion was necessary to prepare for their reception, and to make them as profitable as they have been to man. They could not have been thus profitable unless a better foundation for social improvement had been furnished, than any which existed in the old world. That foundation is given in Christianity, it is Christian liberty, and Christian charity. In truth, the very idea of society as a conscious union of individuals, and not a mere juxtaposition of individuals, was first generated under Christianity; and, until this idea had been brought into being and into vigorous action, no permanent improvement in the condition of man was possible. If then we distinguish between society in general, and a single people, between the progress of man and the progress of a nation, the history of Christianity will henceforth always be the history of man, for it is only in Christian nations, and by Christianity, that man, as the subject of history, exists. And, to bring the discussion back to the point from which it started, since the progress of man is no other than the progress Christianity, in other words, the progress of truth, and since truth is boundless, it follows that the progress of man must be boundless also, an interminable course of improvement, an advancement, without end, in knowledge, civilization, and happiness. It is the privilege and the duty of each generation to contribute something toward this advancement. Wo to the generation which obstructs it!

of

We have spoken of the bearing which popular institutions have on the progress of man. We have considered them as expressions of certain ideas or sentiments which happen to prevail at a particular time, as landmarks by which to measure the wisdom and virtue of the age. Now it is the fate of almost every institution to survive the idea which it embodies, or rather, it is the nature of an idea to outgrow the institution which it has created. Hence no institution can at any time be fully adequate to the wants and the growth of the mind. This fact should never be forgotten. In view of it, society should, as far as possible, prevent its institutions from becoming stationary. Room should be allowed for increase, for improvement, for the expression of

Otherwise the progress

more enlarged and liberal views. of a community is retarded by the very means which it employs to aid its advancement. One of the most expressive of modern institutions, the most indicative, that is, of a desire to improve, is the Lyceum. The sentiment which this institution expresses is respect for knowledge, but it is a kind of respect by no means adequate to its object at this late day. It is a respect for the results of knowledge rather than for knowledge itself. It is the applicability to the practical purposes of life, rather than the inherent, essential worth, which our people prize. Practical utility is, doubtless, an important consideration; but, if mankind had never soared beyond the idea of practical utility, no science would ever have advanced beyond its first rudiments, and, consequently, the world would never have been blessed with those results which we prize so highly. It is with knowledge somewhat as it is with virtue. It is not sufficient to regard it as a means. They only, who love it for its own sake, will ever have the patience to pursue it, or the wit to win it. There is a tradition or fable concerning Archimedes, the philosopher of Syracuse, so applicable to this subject that we shall ask no apology for introducing it. The services which this distinguished mathematician was enabled to render to his native city, by means of his scientific discoveries, how he burned the enemy's ships with his metallic reflectors and hooked them into the air by means of his levers, are matters of common notoriety. It was after some feats of this kind, that a young man, fired with the ambition of distinguishing himself by similar achievements, came to Archimedes and begged to be instructed in" that divine art which had yielded such glorious fruits to their beloved country." "Divine, do you call it?" said Archimedes; "yes, it is divine, but so it was, young man, before it had benefited the state. If you seek knowledge, it is well; but, if you are thinking only of the fruits, you had better have stayed at home. He who would woo the goddess, must forget the woman." *

We do well to look for results; but we must remember that there are some results which the eye cannot see or the hand touch. There are some profits of industry which are not to

* See a poem of Schiller, entitled "Archimedes und der Schüler." VOL. XVI. -N. S. VOL. XI. NO. 1. 3

be measured by any human gauge, nor valued by any earthly coin. We must encourage and reward every department of intellectual exertion, we must honor every species of enquiry, we must tolerate the student's solitary musing, his bookishness and his pedantry too, if need be, or we can never expect any results beyond those which we now possess, and must look for no further improvement in the condition of mankind. The only practical agent in the world is the mind; and unless we allow the mind to pursue its course, when, where, and how it will, we shall have no practical agent at all. What could seem more useless to the people of that age, than the inquiries of Columbus respecting the shape of our globe. Whether the earth was flat or round, seemed to them a very idle speculation. Yet it was that idle speculation, which gave the American continent to civilized man. So true it is, that there is no speculation, in which the mind can engage, provided it be philosophically pursued, but must ultimately lead to the discovery of truth, and bear, remotely or immediately, on the common concerns of life. The utilitarian prejudices of the day have been levelled with special rancor against the higher departments of mental philosophy. It is thought that these studies have a tendency to unfit men for the business of life. Pericles, the Athenian statesman, thought otherwise. He was no dreamer, but he resorted to the school of Anaxagoras. There he acquired his knowledge of man, there formed his principles of action, and, if we may trust his biographer, owed much of what he was and did to the instructions of that philosopher. Lord Bacon has strikingly illustrated this point by another example, that of Xenophon, a young student of philosophy, who, coming fresh from the school of Socrates, and having never before mingled with the world, was yet able, after the death of Cyrus, whom he had followed to the wars, to guide the army of that general in safety through the very heart of a hostile country, from Babylon to Greece. To question the utility of mental philosophy, because we cannot always discern its immediate bearing on the great interests of society, is like questioning the utility of the blood in the human system, because we cannot see how it helps to raise the arm or move the foot. What the blood is to the human system, philosophy is to the social system; just as vital, just as essential. It is only because its operation is

*

* See Coleridge's "Friend. "

not visible, that its efficacy is ever questioned. It was a saying of Mr. Hume, that we can hardly expect a piece of woollen cloth to be wrought to perfection, where the science of ethics is neglected; and though, at first view, there appears to be no connexion between ethics and manufactures, it would not be difficult to show, that this remark was founded on just observation and correct reasoning. We do well to insist on utility; but utility has a wide range; it embraces, not only every thing that relates to the welfare of the body, but every thing that tends to refine and exalt the soul. The Author of our intellectual natures never intended that knowledge should always creep along the earth. He hath given her an infinite aim and a boundless privilege. It is her high calling to search where the planets wander, and to thread the mazes of the mind. At one time, she numbers the tribes of earth and sea, and, at another, she computes the stars of the firmament, and measures their courses through the skies. Now her footsteps are among the paths of men, and now she treads "that path which no fowl knoweth, and which the vulture's eye hath not seen." Now she calls upon the caverns

of the deep and the lowest parts of the earth to reveal their secrets, and now she unspheres

It is her sacred office and her first duty, to scatter the rudiments of useful instruction among the obscure villages and humble dwellings of the poor; but it is no less her duty to inform, with higher revelations, the hungering and thirsting soul, that hath left all and followed her.

Our remarks thus far have had reference to the intellectual rather than the moral advancement of mankind. We intended to say something on this latter topic also; but we have already occupied an unreasonable space, and must hasten to our conclusion.

It is common in this country to connect the hope of man's advancement with the destinies of our own land. Nor is this connexion wholly without foundation. So far as outward circumstances are concerned, the prospect of social improvement is certainly brighter with us than in any other portion of the globe. Where can man advance if not in a