of life. This is not the case,--not so
much so now as in former years. Of the present chief lights of American
literature and science, how many, if graduates of Harvard, took the
first honors of the University here? Or, to put the question in another
form, Of those who took the first honors at Harvard, within the last
thirty years, how many are now conspicuous among the great lights of
American literature and science?

Carlyle, in his recent talk to the students at Edinburgh, remarks that,
"since the time of Bentley, you cannot name anybody that has gained a
great name for scholarship among the English, or constituted a point of
revolution in the pursuits of men, in that way." The reason perhaps is,
that the system of the English universities, though allowing greater
liberty than ours, is still a struggle for college honors, in which
renown, not learning for the sake of learning, is the aim. The seeming
proficiency achieved through the influence of such motives--knowledge
acquired for the nonce, not assimilated--is often delusive, and is apt
to vanish when the stimulus is withdrawn. The students themselves have
recorded their judgment of the value of this sort of learning in the
word "cramming," a phrase which originated in one of the English
universities.

The rudiments of knowledge may be instilled by compulsory tasks; but to
form the scholar, to really educate the man, there should intervene
between the years of compulsory study and the active duties of life a
season of comparative leisure. By leisure I mean, not cessation of
activity, but self-determined activity,--command of one's time for
voluntary study.

There are two things which unless a university can give, it fails of its
legitimate end. One is opportunity, the other inspiration. But
opportunity is marred, not made, and inspiration quenched, not kindled,
by coercion. Few, I suspect, in recent years, have had the love of
knowledge awakened by their college life at Harvard,--more often
quenched by the rivalries and penalties with which learning here is
associated. Give the student, first of all, opportunity; place before
him the best apparatus of instruction; tempt him with the best of
teachers and books; lead him to the fountains of intellectual life. His
use of those fountains must depend on himself. There is a homely proverb
touching the impossibility of compelling a horse to drink, which applies
to human animals and intellectual draughts as well. The s