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to the higher; all the arrangements of society, all the apportionments of our planet prove that not only Mind is the supreme and reigning power, but that mind skilled, trained, and educated, must ever have dominion over Mind unskilled and rude.
Thus then we may say the great object of man's residence here is to be educated;
"And, if as holiest men have deemed there be
A land of souls beyond the sable shore,
Who does not see that this life must have a relation to that? Our intellectual position in the next world must be determined greatly by our position in this. Death may-or rather immortality mayintensify our powers, but relatively to other powers they will be left precisely in the same position. Our whole life is an Education, we are "ever learning," every moment of time, every where, under all circumstances something is being added to the stock of our previous attainments. Mind is always at work when once its operations commence. All men are learners, whatever their occupation, in the palace, in the cottage, in the park, and the field. These are the laws stamped upon Humanity-Progress, Advancement, Growth, Activity. Coleridge has well said there is no standing still with Mind; "if a man is not rising upwards to be an angel he is going downwards to
be a devil." Progress is not necessarily progress in or towards goodness; but the conditions of developement lie around us. Every thing intimates to us that we are at school, and it is not possible to be at school without occasionally having lessons, very severe, very hard to learn. Discipline is by its very nature severe; yet, is there no power in man without its necessity; and there is no power, therefore, which the arrangements of society, or the arrangements of Nature, do not tend to call into play and activity. Nothing in Mind should be allowed to run wildly to action; our physical energies, our propensities, our intellectualisations, our sentiments, all should be put into harness, all should be made to bear the yoke.
Thus we begin to see something of the nature of education; but then, again, we may say all education must be self education; feeding the body, or feeding the mind, are alike pieces of workmanship that no one can do for us; all the education that has ever been in the world, has been the result of self-determination, self-training, and self-reliance. Many persons are accustomed to think if they were only born in circumstances where books were plentiful, and philosophical instruments abounded; where they only had to put on the head a sort of Fortunatus Cap, and, by wishing for any thing, find it in their possession, they would then, they imagine, be highly educated persons; as if know..
ledge could ever be obtained without labour; as if, by a sort of magic, books could be read, and their contents remembered and generalized; as if all the colleges and universities in the world could ever be of any use to the developement of mind, without patient and enduring perseverance, and intelligence. Some time since, the writer was walking through the library of a man who has made himself celebrated in many large circles throughout England, by his power in wielding alike the tongue and the pen, and the accomplishments of whose scholarship are more than equal to his more talked of celebrities. Now there was with us one of the pretending ones, who had a notion that only tools were necessary in order that work might be done; and when he looked round the library he said, "Ah, it's no wonder that you write and speak so well, with all these books," but they both had the same opportunity of acquiring a library, or rather, the wondering spectator had a better opportunity than the other, who sprang from poverty, and from the tailor's board, not only to acquire a library, but to pour a light and lustre over the whole of England, and a very considerable portion of America.
TOOLS, AND NO TOOLS, how much may be said upon this topic in the way of education? We again repeat it, that many are foolish enough to suppose that tools alone are necessary to make a workman; that the possession of a good library,
and philosophical instruments, alone will make the erudite and the philosophic mind. Ridiculous! Does the possession of the organ make the organist; or the hammer the blacksmith, or the plane and hand-saw the carpenter? There is no royal road to knowledge; time, patience, and energy, these consecrate the tools, and give efficiency and purpose to them. Some workmen labour without tools, they fashion their own, they have no money to buy, the busy brain therefore is taxed to invent. Memory furnishes us with another illustration pertinent to our present purpose. One fine day, the writer was walking through one of the lovely valleys of the North of England; he had promised to call upon three several persons, all strangers to him: the first was a young man, of some twenty-five years of age, of wealth which might be truly said to be immense; his mansion was large, his gardens costly and after looking over the latter, the writer was taken into some parts of the former. There was a laboratory, but all unused to the purposes of labour; a variety of philosophical tools were placed all around—a magnificent telescope-a microscope of great power-a little model steam engine-a daguerrotypic machine-a fine electric battery, with all these my friend was wholly unacquainted: he knew not how to use them; he never performed the slightest experiments with them: they seemed to have found their way there wholly by chance.
We stepped from the laboratory into the study or library, (places are frequently strangely misnomered,) it was a truly magnificent collection of books; two thousand volumes, perhaps; many of them very expensive. Desirous of sounding his host, the writer turned volume after volume, all were uncut, uncut, uncut: at last, one better fated than the rest turned up, "Ranke's History of the Popes," first volume, partially cut, "How do you like this?' "Oh, that? Eh! Ah! Yes! Why my sister's reading it. I've not read it yet, myself." Thus in the laboratory, there was not an instrument the usage of which the owner fairly comprehended; or in the study, a book which the owner had read. Here were the tools, abundant enough; but the tools came before necessity called for them, and, therefore, they were useless. From this mansion on the breast of the hill, every day catching the bright cheery sunshine, another visit was paid to a small cottage in the depths of the valley, a mile or two away from the mansion. The owner, here, could purchase very few of the tools of knowledge, but he was an enthusiastic lover of knowledge, and, therefore, he made his own tools. His earnings were under one pound a week, and the cottage was very small, with only its two or three rooms; but it excited more veneration than the costly and well furnished mansion: every thing was scrupulously neat, and all around the little parlour were