■• v*i No. 1. ^ ESSAY ON EDUCATION; !N WHICH THB SUBJECT IS TREATED AS A NATURAL SCIENCE, SBRIBS OF FAMILIAR LECTURES. WITH NOTES. BY MRS. BARBARA O'SULLIVaN ADDlCKS. DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE RIGHT HONORABLE JOHN MARSHALL, Chief Justice of the United States. N E W YO R K : PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL PRE8!?, PRINT Ai PCCO XXXVU. V ^ NOTICE ON THE DEDICATION In the autumn of 1834, being on the eve of my departure for Eng- land, where I intended to publish some miscellaneous writings, 1 ' addressed a letter to Chief Justice Marshall, requesting his permis- sion to dedicate them to him, and received the following answer : — Richmond, Dec. 12, 1834. Madam, — Your letter of the 25th of November was accidentally mislaid, so that I have read it only this morning. I wish you a safe and pleasant voyage and a happy reunion with your friends. It has always been my wish to avoid receiving the dedication of any work. It has the appearance of courting compliments. My objections, however, are not of such a character as to go farther than the mere expression of disinclination, and should you think the dedication to me calculated to answer your wishes, it will give me pleasure. I am, Madam, very respectfully, Your obedient servant, J. Marshall. Although subsequent circumstances prevented me from accom- plishing my desired journey, now that I am presenting my Lectures on Education to the American public, I believe that I may dedicate them to the memory of him, who, when living, permitted me to do so to himself in person. In my incapacity to give utterance to the recollections that crowd on my mind when thinking of Chief Justice Marshall, I shall, in the following extract from a letter written to myself, borrow the words and sentiments of the Honorable Joseph Hopkinson, Judge of the United States District Court for Pennsylvania; and I do so the more readily, as it portrays in true colors the character of 4 the late Chief Justice of this Union ; — it also presents a perfect model of eloquence, and reflects that moral and intellectual excel- lence with which the writer is gifted in an eminent degree. " I saw your friend the Chief Justice a few days before his death. He was to the last the great and good man ; unassuming, shading his vast intellect and high qualities under a veil of unaffected mo- desty, boasting of nothing, complaining of nothing. Honors came upon him without an emotion of vanity, and sickness and suffering without a murmur of impatience : solicitous to give as little trouble as possible to any body, and grateful for the humblest attentions. There is no such man left among us. He is the last of our truly great men. In my estimation we have had but four — Washington, Hamilton, Robert Morris, and Marshall. We have had and have now many extraordinary men — men of high talents and distin- guished qualifications, but a great man, who fills the whole measure of the character, with all its moral and intellectual requisites, is a rara avis^ Barbara O'Sullivan Addicks. The merit of the following pages will be found in the purity of sentiment and the love of trutii which is manifested throughout the whole of their contents. Inclination first prompted me to write them; and in offering them now to the public, lam actuated by the motives that usually induce such attempts. If, in advantaging myself, I, perchance, occasion some ben- efit to the reader, the end of my labours will be accomplished. THE AUTHOR. The present Essay on Education, treated as a natural science, in a series of familiar Lectures, will comprehend the investigation of that subject, under three separate sections, containing the follow- ing order of inquiries : Section 1st. The Physical Organization of Man, considered in its correspondence with the faculties of the mind, and the pur- poses of Education — The Term Education — Its radical mean- ing — Its application to things in general — Its bearing to man in particular. Section 2d. The Education of Man in general, as it ap- pertains, 1st, to the relations of his Physical State; 2d, to the relations of his Intellectual State ; lastly, to those of his Social State. Section .^d. The Education of Women especially considered — its importance to the good of society — its being the guide to all improvements in civilization, and the main conductor to the com- plete fulfilment of the intention of man's existence as an intel- lectual being. LECTURE THE FIRST. FIRST SECTION ARGUMENT. The Physical Organization of Man ; considered in its correspondence with the intentions of an intelligent mind, and in its consequent bearing upon Education — The Human Hand ;* the evident impres- sion which it bears of the existence of an intelligent power, to the execution of the dictates of which it is indispensable— Speech ; the most conspicuous of the bodily faculties, whereby the intentions of the mind are made known, inasmuch as it offers the readiest means of giving utterance to language — Language ; one of the highest gifts of human intellect, inseparable from the mind, and co-existent with thought — The correct understanding of language indispensable to the attainment of knowledge, as the non-comprehension of it is the cause of errors — The disadvantage of the English Language on that account — the term Education offers an example of this, proved by inquiring into the original meaning of the term— Its application to things in general and to man in particular. If we look into the animal kingdom,! we discover every species of which it is composed to be a link in an unbroken chain of beings : in the most minute animal as in that of the greatest bulk ; in the most inert as in the most active; in the weakest as in the strongest ; in the most intelligent and skilful as in the dullest and least able ; in the no longer existing sorts as in those of the present day: in all, the same prin- » See note A. t See note B Q 10 ciples of bodily organization prevail. And yet, man is aware of a power within him, which he believes other animals not to have in common with himself He thinks that he is urged by an impulse or a power different from that of mere bodily sensation or necessity ; and however unsettled this opinion may be, ere matured reflection enlightens his under- standing, still he thus believes, and is confirmed in this belief by the manifestation of superior intention in the mechanism and faculties of his body. In short, man intuitively and demonstratively knows that he has a mind. Buffon says, that man having a hand, he must of consequence have a soul ; and a celebrated philolo- gist of the present day, Dr. Thiersch, of Munich, in the Introduction to his learned Grammar of the Greek Tongue, supposes, that the faculty of speech in man is the first index of his having a mind. These philo- sophical opinions are meant to evince, that although man's bodily organization, as far as it relates only to his animal wants, resembles that of the brute, yet he is also fitted with physical organic powers suited to perform the dictates of the mind. The brute kind appears not to be organized to obey any other impulse than that of mere animal necessity ; man, on the contrary, is bodily fashioned with faculties appropriate to the intentions of the mind, the purposes of the will ; and it may be farther advanced, that the II intention of man's here-being is such, that those dis- tinguishing bodily faculties, governed by the mind, are requisite even to the gratification of the wants caused by the impulses to which he is moved in com- mon with other animals. The brute species, appa- rently constructed to obey no law except that of 'necessity, never acts wrong : never in violation of its nature and intent. With it, instinct, meaning an in- ward motion, a motion in the parts themselves, unin- fluenced by the power of volition, is sufficient to all the purposes of existence. Not so with man, whose first obligation is not to follow, but to control his in- stinct, and who, even in the unavoidable subjugation of his bodily wants, if not ruled by the mind, will not only positively act wrong and against the dignity of his intent, but be far below the brute. In short, so imperiously is it ordered that man should by virtue of his reasoning faculty hold a never-ceasing command over his instinct and its consequences, that where this is not the case — where he is seen without this helm, this guide ; a rational mind, a regulated will — not any thing in nature presents an aspect of so abhorrent and senseless a kind, as we behold in him : nay, on such an occasion, the very superiority of the conformation of his body, serves only to exhibit in a stronger point of view, the total imbe- cility to which it is subjected w^hen not directed by intelligence. Can we reflect on this and not grieve 12 at witnessing so perfect an intent as man perverted by ignorance? Can we behold his godlike attri- butes, and not shudder on discovering them daily violated by vice? Yes; I repeat, whilst instinct and its consequent impulses are all-sufficient to the brute ; principles — principles founded on a dispassion- ate judgment of the fitness and unfitness of things — are the only guides which man can or dare follow^ ; and on this great truth, as I shall hereafter prove, rests the whole aim of man's education. I cannot let pass the opportunity oflfered me by my observations on the distinguishing features of man's bodily organization, without reverting to my quotation from Buffon, w^hich says, that the peculiar conformation of the human hand points out the fact of man having a soul. I have found it difficult to comprehend, how per- sons of reflection could misunderstand or pervert the meaning intended to be conveyed on this subject by this great observer of nature. To see individuals of supposed veracity and of knov/n learning, play as it were the part of children, and in corresponding capriciouvsness refuse to admit the truth contained in an assertion, the good ground for which is so clearly demonstrated, is indeed a phenomenon in morals. Nay ; even a child, supposing its powers of perception were not already weakened by unmeaning prejudices and contradictions, would familiarly seize hold of the full and unobscured meaning contained in the obser- 13 ration of this celebrated naturalist. For my part, I was scarcely twelve years of age when I read Buffon, whose works came to the relief of my, till then, daily reading of the Latin Liturgy and the Lives of the Saints ; and I may feel some gratitude towards it, from its having been the first book 'which freed my intellects from their state of imprisonment, although, in justice to the good re- ceived from my education in a convent, I shall say, that the reading of the Lives of the Saints in the Roman Calendar, joined to the exceeding quiet and purity^ of cloistered scenes, was the earliest source from which I imbibed those impressions of the sublime in human actions, mixed, I own, with many ex- travagant ideas, but which nevertheless served to dispose my mind to the practice of the best principles of which human nature is capable. Those who have read Buifon know the attraction which that learned man has strown over the pages of his work. True, not in every case will some of his hypotheses hold good with the present march of obr:;ervations, but even in their supposed errors they are full of sublimity and of beauty. I now have a lively recollection of the curiosity and wonder with which my young thoughts dwelt on his beautiful theory of the earth, as also on his penciling of the soul-proclaiming lineaments of the human hand. » See note C. 14 Then even in dream I would follow up the traces of creation ; see the hand of the Almighty strike forth from the centre of light, orbs of virtual matter, wiiich, ranging themselves in dependent order, formed the system in which we revolve ; and on awakening, would I look on the face of day with delight, and behold my own hands with confidence. I know not any subject on which most men have written better, or one the study of which is more calculated to please, than Natural Philosophy : whether it is that man, in the contemplation of a vast, passionless and unerring subject, losing sight of his individuality, becomes also free from the influence of petty motives ; or that the charms of truth discover- able in nature render vapid every selfish view, I .shall not take upon myself to judge ; but it is certain that writings on natural science are less encumbered and disfigured by monotony, false reasoning, prejudices, narrow conceptions, and a desire of domineering, than any other species of composition common among us ; and consequently it is that the study of them affords both pleasure and instruction. In the second case, not any pursuit after literary attainment and the knowledge of science is so fitted to captivate the attention and induce a spirit of research, as that which leads to the understanding of Natural Philos- ophy. The sudden discovery of a thousand move- ments, beauties, and relative properties in objects, 15 which before appeared to be merged ia inactive sameness and to exist by mere effects of chance, gives a peculiar buoyancy to the mind. We become, as it were, endowed with a duplicate of senses. A new language strikes on our ears ; prospects before tui- known spread before our sight, and we are sensible of a thousand impressions till then unfelt. And as we advance in life, if perchance grief enter the heart and canker there; if our fellow beings forsake, and our very children turn from us, ah ! then it is that we find a solace in communing with Nature. We look to the clear blue sky, peopling it with beings more kind, more constant, more humane ; or, reclining on the young verdure, bend over each flower, and ask if a congenial spirit breathe not there. The grave itself is no longer dark, for there too Nature keeps her vigil, and come what may, we approach under the guidance of her laws. Not to digress longer from the subject in view, namely, the intention of the human hand as discover- able in the mechanism of its parts, I shall proceed to say, that in all ages, among all nations, and as if by common assent, the hand of man has given rise to some of the finest figures in poetry and in heroic lan- guage. In profane and sacred legends — in the wor- ship of the heathen, in that of the Jews, and lastly in that of the Christians — the hand offers a conspicu- ous emblem of purity and of power. In the circum- 16 stances of social life, and on the assumption of moral responsibility, the hand is held out as the pledge for each firm, sacred, honourable, friendly and endearing act. Among many nations, swearing by the hand of some of its rulers was a sacred oath ; as for example, in Ireland ; and the original costumes of the ancient Irish deserve attention, from the evidence which they bear of a common origin with those of the most en- lightened nations of the remotest antiquity : We find that in that particular clan^ which once possessed and spread over the whole south of that island, to swear by the hand of him who ruled over it, was an oath thought to have been so awful, that even to this day not one bearing the name would have the hardi- hood to violate it. The pride of hand which we dis- cover in women, in certain families of renown, and in those of kingly race, is only an additional circum- stance in support of the belief that the hand re- ceives a strong impression from the sentiments of the mind, and consequently becomes as it were an her^ aldic feature of pure, talented, and commanding thoughts. The fitness of the hand to express the feelings of the soul by corresponding motions, and its evident incapacity the moment that the mind is itself incapacitated, is a fact strikingly observable in insane persons and in idiots. Those who have not been in a situation to observe in actual life examples of what * See note D, 17 I here advance, will have had ample opportunities of doing so when given on the stage. Who has seen '^ Zear/' well acted, that will not come in support of my first position? Behold the agitated, impotent and uncertain movement of the sceptreless hand of this dethroned king — this heart-broken father— this vvo-maddened old man! Methinks his trembling, sighing^ hands tell, not of a physical disorder of the brain, but of that deep, all-destroying madness of the soul, which the ingratitude of a child — of a daughter alone — can cause. In the comedy of '' Rule a Wife and have a Wife," — a composition in which I never could discover any intention but that of a humiliating satire! on the female mind, — we are presented with a true picture in proof of the second case, namely, of the impotence of the hand in idiots, or in persons ignorant from innate stupidity. That play is the first at which I was present on coming out of the cloister ; and as I did not then understand the English tongue, the gestures of the actors alone were comprehensible to me ; yet never shall I forget, and Siore than thirty years stand be- tween now and the time of which I speak, never shall I forget the exhibition of absolute dulness and complete idiotism observable in Cooper's hands, as in acting the part of the open-mouthed and should-be • ♦See note E. t See note F. 3 18 brainless lover, his lank fingers hung inertly by his side. So well had this excellent actor studied the art of cutting off, as it were, all correspondence between those members and his intelligent eyes, that w^hilst these in stolen glances darted forth all the purposes of his schemmg thoughts, the former hung on, a dead weight, so slothful and so stupid, that the very food would have dropped from them on its way to a hun- gry stomach, and that from sheer want of sufiicient animation to hold it. Speaking in the opposite sense, namely, in proof of the impression which the hands have of the dignity of the mind, I will advance, that I never saw a person having a handsome hand that did not also possess great intelligence and abilities. Mrs. Siddons, of whom may be said, as said Frederick the Great, of Leibnitz, '• she had more than one soul," had a hand surpassingly beautiful and expressive. In none of those of the royal^ personages whom I have been permitted to approach, have I discovered greater im- print of sovereignty than was perceivable in that of Mrs. Siddons. When that distinguished woman held forth her hand, the effect on the beholder was pecu- liarly striking, and acted on the mind as the harbinger of the heroic verses to which this ^' great mistress of the voice" gave so much strength, pathos, and beauty. * See note G. 19 I ^ould take this opportunity to remark, that of all the celebrated women of whom history makes mention, there is not one whose biography should be more attentively read, particularly by women, than that of Mrs. Siddons. Her being a great actress was not simply the result of early habits improved to perfection by the precepts and examples of the tal- ented actors of her time ; but her excellence on the stage arose from that boundless conception of the commanding and the beautiful, which was a peculiar feature of her mind, and for the manifestation of which her person and her voice had been as if ex- pressly ordered. Every hour of that ladys life was devoted to some noble purpose. Notwithstanding the major portion of tune which must of necessity have been taken up by the duties attendant on the ex- alted rank which she held in her profession, Mrs. Sid- dons found leisure to cultivate her taste for statuary ; and it was in the study of that superior branch of the fine arts, that she acquired the chaste and grace- ful style of draperies and attitudes which in her acting gave her whole appearance an air so truly picturesque and classic. In person as in mind. Mrs. Siddons presents a perfect model of the charms and dignity of human nature. With Rush I exclaim, " The vision of the great actress is before me ! ' and in common with Bvron, I would not that the impres- sion of it were effaced. 20 To conclude my observations on the subject of the hand, I shall state, that were I to cite the hundreds of examples that can be adduced in support of Buf- fon's having rightly discriminated the character of the human hand, a volume would scarcely suffice. I shall, therefore, close the subject with saying, that Buffon never meant to advance, as some writers have asserted of him, that the soul of man was cre- ated for the use of his hands ; but he merely wished to demonstrate, that on beholding the human hand, the belief must follow, that so finely formed an instrument could have been intended only as the executive of an intelligent mind. A fact which we cannot disprove is, that without the hand there is not before us the least appearance of a means whereby the conceptions of the mind can be brought into effect. In Georgetown, District of Columbia, I saw a man born blind, who was not only a good cabijietmaker, but also an excellent mathematician. On crossing the Allegany I came to a farm kept by a family of blind people, a man and his two sisters, all three born blind ; and yet the house, garden, orchard, field, and dairy, bore the semblance of hav- ing been governed with the nicest attention to com- fort and profit. But who ever saw a human being without hands accomplish any thing materially use- ful to himself or to his fellow beings 1* * See note H. 21 At this instant the fact strikes me, that in the word ^mechanics we have a clear demonstration of what I have been endeavoring to prove through the whole of the foregoing remarks ; for whilst the general accepta- tion of this term is the science of the laws of motion, its radicals imply an operation consummated by the 'joint dictates of the faculties of intelligence and those of matter — in man, of the mind and those of the body — those of the hand. We are aware that the faculties of the body become developed in propor- tion to the force and frequency with which they are exercised; and it is likewise evident, that if he who executes an art be the same individual who conceived it, the greater share of mental power required for the conception of such art, the greater will be the impress on of mind on the bodily organ which is employed in executing it. I am sensible that I have been somewhat prolix on the subject of the hand ; still, good can flow from it, inasmuch as from what I have said, young persons may discover that the best cosmetic for the hand is produced by inducing the mind to follow a constant course of noble and virtuous sentiments. Of all the bodily faculties whereby man can bring into operation the conceptions of the mind, that of speech holds the first rank, inasmuch as it offers the readiest means of giving utterance to language, a power inseparable from the operation of the mind ; 22 for whilst without language, man might as well have been without a mind : in the absence of mind, speech were to him a superfluous endowment. I shall exemplify the truth of this proposition by pass- ing in review the operations that take place each moment in the mind, and to the accomplishment of which, language is indispensable. Man experiences sensations ; he is capable of con- sciousness ; he thinks ; he reflects ; he judges. Sen- sations are produced by the action of matter, actu- ally or recollectively. Consciousness is the internal sense of the existence of these sensations. Thinking is an act of the mind originating in consciousness, and presupposes a distinct and intentional perception of things, their actions, and effects. Reflection is the act of examining our thoughts, and of making them subservient to our judgment: lastly, judgment is the decision of the mind on the fitness of things, acts, and effects, by means of comparison. The first two of these faculties, namely, sensation and con- sciousness, are involuntary and common to all ani- mals ; the last three, however, are governed by the will, and might he thought the privilege of man only. I say might be, from the consideration that when man shall have attained to the science of '' breathing the breath oflife^^ into apparently cold, motionless mat- ter, then, and then only, may he arrogate to himself the power of pronouncing on the hidden faculties of 23 living things. However, as it is not my wish to encumber the subject which I have chosen to lecture upon wath speculative disputations, I shall proceed to state, that in accordance with what I have said to be the power of thinking and its attendant faculties, re- flection and judgment, it is evident, that without the 'additional faculty of language, that of thought would be to no rational end: for, as in that case, man not having the power of retaining his thoughts, his life would be filled up with a round of sensations, going and coming as the objects and necessity which occasion them come and go. In short, under the influence of so sad a state, man could be only a brute. We must therefore conclude, that since neither the faculty of language nor that of thought could be to any purpose without mutual co-operation, each must have been coeval to the other ; consequently, with his first thought man nmst have uttered his first word. It matters not whether that first word was oral, or made known by means of speech, or made palpable to the sight by means of gesture or form, or whether it was merely quiescent in the mind; a word it still was, and meant to portray and pre- serve the thought for which it stood, else the thought itself could not have had duration ; nay, it could not even have come into existence. And now the infer- ence follow^s, that as thinking originates in the con- 24 sciousness of our sensations, language, in proclaiming thoughts, must also have made known the concurring elements and circumstances that originated thoughts. If these were simple in their elements, the name to designate them must also have been simple; if, on the contrary, they were complex thoughts, or thoughts resting on the idea of the connexion or relation of two separate things, composite terms, that is to say, terms compounded of parts bearing a similitude to the separate elements of which the thoughts were composed, must have been used. Did, however, a thought rise in the mind, based on the close connexion, relation or dependence of se- veral distinct objects, acts or consequences, resolved into one whole ; it is evident, that on such an occasion the primitive man, untaught in the lan- guage of art, would simply have composed a term consisting of parts expressive of the most prominent features observable in the matters which gave rise to that thought. Hence it is, that whilst the languages of primitive or untaught people are less furnished with adjuncts and explicatives than those of cultivated nations, and from that circum- stance less fitted to objects of science, nevertheless, from their abounding in figures drawn from sensible objects and from natural passions, they are as re- markable for their conciseness, as they are rendered 25 impressive, and often magnificent, by their strength ^nd pathos. From the foregoing exposition of the use of words we come to the perception, that language, being the only means whereby man could portray the inten- tions of his mind, the first step to civilization must 'have been the improvement of language. That this is a fact is easily proved. Civilization implies the attainment of ideal or moral excellence, meaning the attainment of those objects, whether real or imaginary, that conduce to the promotion of our Qomfort or our delight; such as charity and justice to our fellow beings, the study of nature, application to the fine arts, the cultivation of refinement both in manners and address, a delicate sense of what is due to the feelings of others, a high sense of honor, &c., &c., &c. ; and in granting this definition of the term to be correct, we are brought to the conviction that it takes its rise in thoughts, the objects of which are purely intellectual, and originate in the wants of the mind. Admitting the truth of this last position, our next inquiry is, how shall such thoughts be held fast in our remembrance, to the end that they may be re- flected on, judged, preserved, and transmitted, if we have not some appropriate terms to designate them ? Sensible objects, on coming in contact with the senses, at once proclaim themselves ; and we become 4 26 conscious of the sensation which they produce at the instant, and are often led to recollect that which similar ones may have produced on some former occasion. Did any sensation create delight, the consciousness of it being impressed on the mind, will lead us to seek the opportunity of renewing the same ; on the contrary, is it pain that charac- terizes the sensation, the sense of pain and the ur- gency of avoiding a renewal of it will hold as strongly on the recollection. And it is evident that these operations, as far as they relate to animal actions only, could take place without the use of language. But the case immediately alters the moment that we are induced either to reason on the cause or causes that have occasioned this pleasurable or painful sensation, or are called upon to decide on the expe- diency of renewing the one or avoiding the other, from the comparison of their consequences ; and here it is that the rational faculties of man first come into action : and to form a correct judgment, being obliged to call to mind numerous ingredients, that by reflecting and comparing them he may judge of their nature and fitness, it is evident each must have a name, else, not having the means of calling them to mind at pleasure, nor with perspicuity, they could not be made to take the stable and collected aspect necessary to the close and satisfactory inves- tigation of their several characters and capacities. 27 Since language is requisite in the judgment of the actual impressions caused by sensible objects on our senses, how much more indispensable must it be to the investigation of ideal and moral purposes ! I may advance that each moral idea, as also ideal excellence in any one thing, is the result of a long series of thoughts on the nature and intentions of a combination of actions, and the consequences of these actions relatively to man; and in admitting this exposition to be correct, we are struck by the multitude of objects, acts, and effects which the Judgment of the fitness of a single moral purpose, or the attainment of one object of ideal perfection, brings before the mind. Consequently, language being the only means whereby moral and intellectual ideas become tangible to our recollection, it is evi- dent, that without the power of language, not any of these ideas could hold duration in the mind, any jnore than the ideal excellence of form could do so without a model to represent it ; words being as ne- cessary to embody the first, as painting or sculpture to incorporate the last. Even now that languages are so numerous, so co- pious, and so generally known, how difficult do we find it to keep in remembrance the recollection of ideas simply named! how difficult even to distinguish them, as robed in their distinct terms they succes- sively pass through the mind ! The mind of man 28 may not unaptly be compared to a machine, all parts of which are employed in the generative afflux of thinking. Thoughts flow on thoughts, and that with a force and continuity that almost deprives us of the possibility of discriminating them. Scarcely has the first wave of ideas swelled into existence, ere it is o'er-billowed by the next ; this again by a third, which in its turn is submerged by the coming one, and thus each overwhelms the other till the conduit is closed and the machine worn out. In this pressure of thoughts, in this difficulty of giv- ing them an appropriate order in the mind, we trace the origin of the invention of written signs. Ere that useful art was known, ignorance kept the major part of mankind in bondage ; and although a particular set of men made it the business of their lives to re- cord and transmit, by means of oral traditions, the accounts of great events, yet the benefits resulting from a studious application to the investigation of those truths in which the happiness of humanity is concerned, were but partially felt, and that from no other cause than the one arising in the difficulty of preserving and transmitting the result of that investi- gation by means of oral words alone, unassisted by visible signs. Soon studious men became sensible of this great impediment in the march of science ; and, as at first, words were invented to express thoughts, written signs were now found to picture words, and 29 render them ineffaceable before the mind of the then living, and of future generations. Lastly, came the art of printing : and the laborious investigations of learned men in knowledge, for ages back, is spread before us as if only the work of a day ! From the view which I have given of the necessi- ty of Language, it is obvious, that without the per- fecting of that faculty, the powers of the mind could be used but within narrow limits, and of course the improvements of which we are capable would be slow, and in many instances unattainable ; all our means of improvement depending on the recollection which we have of the impressions made on our mind. This fact has been satisfactorily proved in more than one case, where persons having been lost in their infan- cy, and when grown up, caught wild in the w^oods and mountains; for although afterwards civilized and taught to speak, in not any one instance were they found to have had only a very obscure conception of what their deserted state had been. Another instance in point is that of persons born deaf. In the various opportunities which I have had of examining the deaf and dumb students, I uniform- ly found them wholly deficient in the power of stating clearly what their impressions were, ere they had been taught to clothe their ideas in words : yet it can- not be doubted that they possessed the power of having ideas, as also of realizing an image of 30 them ; but, deprived of the sense of hearing, and with it of the opportunity of acquiring language by imita- tion, they were left to the slow process of their own imaginative powers to clothe and keep their ideas in remembrance ; an operation too difficult to make it probable that it would be had recourse to, on any but simple and unavoidable occasions. Besides, even as respects the mere impression made on the senses by common daily occurrences, none but the closest inti macy could hold out the prospect of coming at the true knowledge of what were the prevalent ideas of men situated as were the deaf and dumb, ere the rays of light which emanated from the benevolent founder of their school, dispersed the darkness in which their minds were enveloped ; and as from the very incapacity of those ill fated individuals, their moral obligations were few, their moral sense must have been far less acute than that of mere animal character ; hence their thoughts may in general have been imbued with ideas resulting from impulses too gross to be found worthy of the dignified garment of language. I wish it to be understood, that when I speak of language, I do not limit it to the capacity of speech — for whilst language emanates from the powers of the mind, speech is the action of the bodily organs, in- tended by nature as the instruments of language ; consequently, speech is to the mind what the hand, or 31 in fact what the whole of the human bodily organi- zation is to it — the executive of its intentions ! Hence, were it so to happen that a number of men born deaf were collected together, and apart from all other hu- man beings, there is not a doubt, but that the capa- city of language in them, urged on by necessity, and ^ided by mutual reflection, would soon develope itself through some sensible signs, and a written language might closely follow that of gesture. And if we but reflect for a moment on the extraordinary powers which man possesses of rendering each of his bodily faculties subservient to the purposes of intelligence, we may confidently assert, that such an assemblage of men might arrive at a high degree of culture in the arts of civilization and in the knowledge of the sciences. Nay, it is even possible that the capaci- ties of the nervous system might be so completely awakened in them, and so nicely exercised, as to become sensible to the pleasures of harmony, caused by the various vibrations of the atmosphere, namely? the harmony of tone. On my visit to Wier's Cave, in Virginia, I had occasion to enter the dwelling of a neighbouring me- chanic, a shoemaker. The door of the house being closed only by means of a much- worn wooden latch, it opened without the least appearance oi noise or violence; and besides, the day was remarkably calm, and not a breath of air was stirring ; — still, at my en- 32 trance, a man sitting at work at the farther end of the room, and with his back to the door, immediately turned to see who had come in ; and on my address- ing him, to my astonishment I found him to be both deaf and dumb : and yet the slight motion and pressure of the air, caused by my quiet entrance into the house, had been as quickly felt by him as the most distinct utterance could have been by the nicest ear. But to return to the subject of language : As an additional example of its power, would it be unphi- losophical to attribute our want of recollection of the incidents of our infant years to a want of lan- guage to preserve them by ? And on the other hand, has not the slow development of the faculty of lan- guage in children been wisely ordered to prevent the injury which the labour of thoughts w^ould occasion to the tender organs of an infant ? This supposition may be erroneous, but through how many errors do we not go ere we arrive at truth ! A false pro- position, if it elicits inquiries, will in the end be use- ful. How many follies, says a celebrated writer, would we not be guilty of, if our ancestors had not committed them before us ! To conclude. Language being the power whereby the operations of the mind take a form, are preserved and transmitted; the more it assimilates to those operations, the more comprehensive will it be. It is, however, to the languages the nearest approaching 33 to those which were spoken by the primitive races of men that we must look for remains of this compre- hensiveness in its original force. The primitive man, untaught in the ornaments and uninfluenced by the methods of art, must have spoken a language simply but steadily accordant with the impressions made on his senses. With him, the organs of speech must have taken the lead in the formation of the language which his mind dictated. If one or more of the impressions made on his senses excited strong movements in his mind, his organs of speech would suddenly dilate or be violently compressed; and a strong aspiration or a violent compression of these organs would characterize the utterance of the term by which the impressions on his senses were intend- ed to be designated. Did, however, the idea to be portrayed rest on some mild and pleasing impression, an harmonious and a liquid assemblage of sound would distinguish the utterance of the word that pictured it. And as the impressions by which man is governed take their character from the sensible objects by which he is surrounded, we are at once led to the cause of the difference of style in the char- acter and utterance perceivable not only in the lan- guages of distinct nations, but in the language of one people. As, for example: — the language spoken by the dwellers in forests, on the mountains, and on the 34 barren shores of the tempestuous waves, in the midst of gloom, dangers, heights, and storms, must have been stronger in its aspirations and sharper in its accents than that spoken among the inhabitants of the smiling plains ; who, under an even sky, and fanned by the mild winds, would naturally speak in a cadence both soft and complying. In the two principal dialects of the ancient Greek language, namely, the Doric and the loriic^ we have the fore- going clearly demonstrated. We may indeed philo- sophically infer, that the language of the plain could not be spoken with advantage in the depths of woods, nor on the heights of mountains, any more than the loud, harsh, and prolonged tones, which mark the language of these last, could be suited to the former. On crossing the Gothard in company with a Bavarian and a Florentine artist, I had an op- portunity of satisfying myself of the truth of what I have here advanced ; and I was peculiarly struck with the superiority of the effect produced by Schil- ler's Song of the Robbers, as sung in the loud tenor voice of the German, over a melodious Italian air performed in the undulating accents of our Tuscan companion. As a further assertion that language must comport with climates and localities, I shall not hesi- tate to say, that were a colony from Rome to emigrate to the w41ds of the Allegany, its hitherto soft and melting language would imperceptibly assume a 35 figure of expression and a tone of utterance suited to the solitude and savageness of its new abode. In all the grand features of expression, the Eng- lish language is to us particularly deficient. I say to us, from the fact, that we have been taught to speak it, and to attach certain meanings to certain terms, without being made sensible of the correspond- ence of the terms to the things which they are meant to represent. Consequently, whilst the learn- ed seek, in the study of ancient languages, for a clearer understanding of their vernacular tongue, the untaught move around with the words which they daily use, not unlike the wheels of a watch with the spring that causes them to go — without being sensi- ble of the cause. Webster, in the Introduction to his Critical Dic- tionary of the English language, says : " Those who are acquainted with the English language only, can scarcely know the true original meaning of the words which they daily use." Finding myself thus supported in what I before advanced, I shall follow up the subject still farther, and will say, that the people who speak the English language as their ver- nacular tongue have the disadvantage of speaking a language composed of words that do not emanate from their own conception of the elements or attri- butes which these words are meant to proclaim; consequently, the great end of language, namely, 36 that of a vivid portraiture of our impressions and thoughts, is unattainable to them. The meaning of the words which they speak cannot be sensitively felt by them ; they cannot and do not recognise in those words an image of their actual perception of a fact ; they have only been taught to name this or that object, act, or sensation, by this or that term ; but not comprehending the radicals of the term, they cannot be sensible of its analogy with the thing, attribute, or impression which it is meant to desig- nate. One illustration will suffice to establish the truth of this proposition. I shall take the word Geography,* and addressing myself on the one hand to an ignorant Greek or German, ask each successively, in his original lan- guage, if he have studied Geography: both will in due order answer, '' No ! " I now turn with the same question to an equally ignorant Englishman, who, with a broad stare, will probably exclaim, " Whafs that ? " The cause of the marked differ- ence of these two modes of meeting one and the same question is evident ; for whilst the Englishman has not a single word in his language that can lead him to the comprehension of the term Geography, the two former individuals being on the contrary familiar with the simple words of w^hich are com- * See note H. 37 pounded Geographia for the Greek, and Erdebesch- reibung for the German, both at once understood that they were asked if they had studied the descrip- tion of the earth. The utility of the study of original languages is here made evident ; as not any thing will sooner aid in dispelling ignorance and false views in general, than the correct comprehension of the words which we speak. We have not, perhaps, made a suffi- ciently strict inquiry into the disadvantages resulting from our use of words not radically understood — we have not looked earnestly enough on the fact, that as language is the first step to the attainment of knowledge, the non-comprehending of it is the most direct obstacle which could be placed in the way of that attainment. And on the other hand, will it be presuming too much, were I to attribute the lively and imaginative powers displayed in the works of the ancient Greeks, as also the spirit of profound philos- ophy and of studious research so conspicuous in the writings of the Germans, to those having spoken, and these now speaking a language perfectly in unison with their original and actual perception 7 An additional disadvantage of the English lan- guage is, that being derived from two languages of opposite origin, the Latin and the Teuton, it is sel- dom that a single word can lead us to the compre- hension of a composite, each being of different origin • 38 consequently, in most words, ignorant of their pri- mary sense, we often adapt them to their secondary^ and even to the adverse sense of their original meaning. This is particularly true of words compo- site, especially those that stand for intellectual ideas, a class of words the radicals of which are the most difficult to trace. The term whereby the subject of the present series of lectures is designated, offers a striking example of our proneness to overlook the radical intention of the foreign terms which we speak ; I mean the term Education^ or its verb, To Educate. According to the exposition given by English lexi- cographers, " Education comprehends all that series of inst7'uction which is intended to enlighten the un- derstanding, correct the temper, and form the habits of youth ; " as to educate is ^' to instruct, instil good principles into the mind," &c., &c. We have only to look into the radicals of the terms to educate and to instruct, to be convinced of the error of the foregoing exposition of their meaning; nor should our research be thought fastidious, * for it is surely of importance that we should knoiv icell the real import of the words which we speak ; more especially, when these words stand for things on the correct use of which the whole sum of our happiness depends. * See note I. 39 The verb TO Educate is a term! The verb to Instruct, also a composite, derived from the Latin composite, is from the Latin In- Educo, meaning to extract s^rz^o, meaning to set on, put on, FORTH, BRING FORTH, DRAW ' Contract for, provide, <^c. It OUT, &c. It is compounded of Ex, ' " ' " "' OUT OF ; and Duco, to nurse, NOURISH, LEAD, CONDUCT,GUIDE, BRING, &C. composed of in, signifying to- wards, against, into ; and struo, to build, devise, form, make, &c. This etymological definition of the verb to educate and to instruct presents us with a clear view of their original meaning and of the opposite sense in which they stand towards each other. We recognise, that whilst TO EDUCATE relates to what is already in existence, holds out the evidence of a primary cause to the accomplishment of the fixed intentions of which it is indispensable, and is of necessity un- changeable in both its operations and effects ; to in- struct relates, on the contrary, to the projecting of that which is not at the time in being, is dependent on accidental causes, and is of consequence variable and uncertain in its acts and consequences. To instruct is in opposition to destroy ;^ the first, /orm^, amasses J holds; the last, laysioaste, dissolves, lets go; each of which contrary operation may or may not take place, either being called into action by circumstan- ces of a secondary and variable character. Not so to educate, which being founded on the requisition of primeval origin, is no less an operation among each of the species of beings in nature, than the one ♦ See note K. 40 whereby the Supreme Intelligence gorerns the uni- verse. We come therefore to the conclusion, that the cor- rect meaning of the verb to educate is, to draw forth the inherent properties of things, and to adjust, direct, and guide their mutual parts and faculties to the end that each may act in accordance with its nature and the design of its existence. It is to regulate the actions of things in obedience to fixed laws, the effect of which will be harmony and unity.* Finally, edu- cation provides for the experience, the knowledge of truth : it is the science whereby harmony and unity are produced. Harmony and unity cannot be in buildedy formed, created, they being not bodies, but simply the effect of the coaction or relative position of bodies. As an example : — Does an organist give harmony of tone to an organ ? Assuredly not ; but the organ-builder having constructed t the instru- ment after certain laws of proportion, if acted upon in corresponding proportion by the organist, the effect will be harmony of tone; if the contrary, dishar- mony will be the consequence. Can we find a more perfectly constructed being than we behold in man ? The work of an omniscient artist^ he is perfect in his physical organization, peifect in his mental power ! * See note L. t See note M. 41 Can philosophy say why, thus privileged, his actions produce not always harmony? Were it not that it would carry us beyond the limits of a Lecture, by entering into a still closer investiga- tion of the radicals of the verb to educate through all the branching out of its root and origin, many curious facts would be developed ; however, as it is, we have sufficiently examined the import of the word to be convinced that it embraces a wider field of action, and is more definite in its aim, than we perhaps anticipated. For whilst it is now evi- dent to us that all things in nature must be educated^ be it through instinct or experience, as in being edu- cated consists the means whereby each of the species can alone be preserved, we likewise become con- vinced that to educate is an art inherent in nature. Consequently, the terms to educate and education are as ancient as their image on the mind. The first human being who reflected on himself, who raised a child, a plant, an animal, composed words for education and to educate : and as there is not an object in nature that does not stand in relation to another, it is evident that education must accord with these relations. The relations between objects can admit of the following classification : — 1st. Primitive or internal relations, meaning those existing between the parts of a body or tiling. 42 2d. Transitive or external relations^ meaning those existing between two separate bodies or things. 3d. Productive or consequent relations^ that is to say, those originating in the action of bodies. 4th. Secondary or accidental relations^ namely, those arising from accidental or changeable causes. In the course of this Lecture we shall have occa- sion to prove, that whilst man, by virtue of his men- tal power, holds mastery over these two last classes of relations, nevertheless, in their turn, they exercise so powerful a control over him, that it is only by a correct understanding of their import that he can act up to the intentions of his being. This assump- tion brings us to the second section of the subject of this Lecture, namely, the education of man relatively considered with his three distinct natures of, 1st, A Physical Being. 2d, An Intellectual Being. 3d, A Social Being. The first of these considerations, namely, man's education as it appertains to the relations of his phy- sical state, will form the contents of the next Lec- ture. NOTES TO LECTURE THE FIRST. NOTE A. " THE HUMAN HAND."— Page 9. As far as the extent of ray reading will permit me to say, I believe that since Buffon down to the circumstance that has occasioned the publication of the " Bridgewater treatises," I am the only writer who has spoken of the human hand as an organ strikingly characteristic of a special affinity with an intelligent mind. As early as 1822 I had prepared materials for the composition of a philosophical essay on the nature of man. Subsequently, my notes were lost ; and owing to events, originating in the death of my lamented father, the late Major Thomas Herbert O'Sullivan Bear, of Bearhaven, it was not till 1830 that I found myself placed in a situation sufficiently calm to allow of my turning my attention a second time to the subject. Then, however, I found a great obstacle in the loss of my former manuscripts,' and with it of numerous interesting notes made during my residence in Germany, and a daily intercourse with some of the learned men of that country. Despairing of being able to recal to mind the train of ideas which my former situation and associations had facilitated, I gave up all thoughts of a regularly digested philosophical essay, and limiting myself simply to the consideration of the principal features of the organization and intention of man, I ranged it under the rubric of an Essay on Education, treated as a natural science, in a series of short familiar lectures. The first of these was read at the Franklin Institute, Philadelphia, January, 1831, and a few copies of it came before the public on the 1st of May following, precisely two months before the coming out of the first number of the " American Journal of Geology and Natural Science;'' the first and only channel through which I came to the knowledge of the Bridgewater bequest, and that the late Earl had ever thought of the hand in its relation with an intelli- gent mind. The learned author of the Journal* will not refuse testify- ing to the fact of the priority of my publication to his, particularly as at the time, he did me the honour of noticing my humble attempt at speculative philosophy. In reference to the Bridgewater treatises, all studious men will have read that portion of them which treats on the hand. I have not the slightest pretension to being thought able to come within any degree of its author's (Sir Charles Bell) capacity to treat this curious and im- * G. VV. Featherstonhaugh, Esq. Fellow of the Geological Society of London • Member of the American Philosophical Society of Philadelphia, Jc. &c ^ ' 44 portant subject. I am not an anatomist, nor even a naturalist ; but I may assume that the statement which I have given of my opinion of the intention of the human hand originates in ideas purely my own. True, I cannot support my argument on the spirituality of the hand by proofs drawn from anatomical observations, nor indeed is it necessary that I should have recourse to any such authority, to establish a fact sufficiently demonstrated to the eyes of the philosophic or thinking man. I care not how many joints or nerves my hand may contain, nor am I curious to examine what are their angles, and how they play ; it is enough for me to see that it accomplishes all that which my mind conceives, nor do I perceive it to be in the disposition of the several parts of the hand discernible to the eye of the naturalist, the physician, or the professor of anatomy, but singly in its expression and in its execution, that its spiritual mission is felt. The man of science, who shall succeed in measuring the changing play of the organ of the seemingly motionless lips, whilst clothing the silent thoughts with words ere the utterance of them has reached the ear, and explain the nature of the inseparable connexion existing between the organs of the lips and the faculties of the mind and the hidden feelings of the heart, and which makes it im- possible for a thought to arise or a sentiment to exist in either of the two last without the coeval expression of it by the first ; so able a man will be able to trace mathematically the various expressions of the hand. To those who are not sensible of what I mean by the spiritu- ality of the human hand, [ shall simply use the words of Schiller : " We must despise the worthless being who ne'er reflects on what he executes; for the faculty that embellishes man, and to the end of which reason was given him, is, that he can trace to his inner breast that which he creates with his hand^ From my earliest childhood, separated from all parental ties, a va- riety of causes occasioned in me a habit of contemplation. Independent of the quiet of a cloistered life, nuns in their retirement fill up the measure of their time with ceremonies and practices which have a remarkable and salutary effect on the young mind, disposing it to the love of the sublime and of the innocent. But it was not till after my arrival in Germany, among the Germans, in the midst of that moral and intellectual people, in the sanctuary of the sciences, and surround- ed by the poetic creations of the arts, that my inclination to speculative philosophy became fixed ; and among the many objects in nature and in man which by turns filled me with wonder, the hand held the first rank, and I became satisfied, that an organ that could execute so much, must be endowed with a spiritual affinity to the power that guided it; and thence I drew the conclusion, that the hand took and bore the im- pression of the predominent ideas of the mind and of the passions of the heart. 45 That I should wish to establish my right to be considered an original writer on the hand, might with propriety be attributed to the wish we all have of seeing our few talents acknowledged. However, higher motives induce me to exertion : A daughter of the ancient house of Bearhaven, and yet from my birth doomed to live apart from all relatives, my whole life has been spent among strangers— under no control but that of my own impulses — nevertheless I have had many friends, many distinguished friends, and to these, here or abroad, I would show that even now, in my advanced age, I am still attached to those pursuits which at an earlier period they honoured in me. I would make known to the few of my paternal clan yet in existence, that although long exiled from them, still I have preserved pure within my mind the spirit handed me down by my sires. Lastly, I would leave some memorial that may do honour to my children. NOTE B. " ANIMAL KINGDOM." — Page 9. On the subject of the opening of this Lecture, an able critic, speaking of me, writes : " Neither is it safe to open a grave work by asserting any thing about the animal kingdom, when the writer is evidently not a naturalist." In answer to this I would presume to say, that all per- sons of observation, reading and reflection, without being practical anatomists or naturalists, may with propriety understand the general bearing of those sciences. In matters of learning, the aim of instruc- tion is to give a general idea of the fundamental characteristic of all the important sciences to a student, leaving him to perfect himself in any one of them by a life of study and practice. NOTE C. " auiET AND PURITY." — Page 13. I should act an unjust and an ungrateful part towards the sisterhood of La Congregation Notre Dame, at Montreal, were I not to take this opportunity of reprobating the slanders which of late years have come from the press in this country to the disadvantage of female convents abroad in general, and of those of Montreal in particular. Letting alone the audacity and absurdity of traducing the purity of life of a community of women, established in a British province, and under the surveillance and guardianship of British virtue, of British laws, I would point out to my own sex at least, the insult offered them by these demoralizing and impure writings. Since 1798, that I left the convent of La Congregation Notre Dame at Montreal^ where from the tender age of two until I had attained my sixteenth year, I was kindly fostered and educated ; where I received that nursing which a mother could not give me, and that protection which my father was 46 too distant to afford me — since then. I sar,. I have had scarcely any intercourse with persons of the Roman Church, and indeed most of my friends among religious men have been clergymen of the Church of England, and these will testify that I am free from all prejudices on Church matters; and they will credit my assertion, when I say. that more monstrous falsehoods could not have been told of pure and chari- table persons than those that have formed the contents of the loathsome books that have been circulated throughout this country respecting the convents in Montreal. At this instant I turn with affectionate remem- brance to the quiet and innocent scenes of my early life — scenes where- in I imbibed a rich store of those high-toned sentiments that have been my safeguard through a life of excessive sorrows. I have not seen the place since. If. perchance, these pages should travel thither, may the pious nuns of whom I speak, accept these few lines as a tribute to their virtue, and as a mark of the remembrance of one whose life has been too stormy to leave her leisure to commune with them. NOTE D. '•'in that particular clan.-' — Page lf5. The -'O'Sullivan Bear.*" — Whilst at Rotterdam on business with Alex- ander Ferrier. British Consul and executor to my late father's will. I became acquainted with his Secretary, Mr. Masterson, who showed me an interesting document, namely, a fac simile of an ancient map of Ireland, to be seen in the royal archives of Brussels. On it the divi- sions of the counties being principally marked out by the names of the reignant family, it was with no little pride that I saw the name of O'Sullivan spread over the whole south of that island; the O'Sullivan Bear having the largest share, the O'Sullivan Moor the least. The pride of hand among the O'Sullivans is perfectly clanish. NOTE E. '• siGmxG HA>D.*' — Page IT. It is difficult for me to state the idea which I mean to convey by this expression ; perhaps it might be understood more clearly by the word. tremor in its softest, and most silent, and j'et most affecting degree. Those whose heart and mind have been touched by softening or by sad emotions will understand me. They who do not, cannot as j-et have felt either pleasure or pain, or are incapable of being sensible to either. NOTE F. '• A ecMiuATLNG SATIRE." — Page 17. These compositions are losing ground in public opinion, and it is beginning to be understood that the men, in lowering woman, lower themselves ; whilst in proportion to the recognition of the worth of wo- man, men themselves become more worthy. 47 NOTE G. '' EOTAL."— Page la Having a great respect for the individual whose criticism on this Lecture I have already spoken of, I am anxious that he should not misunderstand my motives. Speaking fanher of me, he sav^ ■•' There IS an occasional display of foibles, that detracts from her merits. The passage about royal personages can serve no pmT)ose but that of draw- ing unfriendly criticism upon her." If the gentleman had reflected for a moment on the association of ideas that mnst have occupied mv . mmd whiLn uTiting the passage which he disapproves of. he would have seen that they were too exalted to admit of the meaner consideration which he would seem to intimate. I was speaking of the hand of Mrs Siddons, a personage who fiUed up, in my mind, the beau ideal of a perfect woman. I speak of her hand being commanding, and forth- with draw a comparison with that of royal persons, whose habits are that of command. Besides, although as a royalist, I feel towards kines all the reverence which is their due, still, from mx infancy bein^ ac- customed to the idea of having the right to appear in their presence I could not have been guilty of a weakness inconsistent with my habhs, and beneath the grave and sublime subject by which my mind was at the time taken up. -VOTE H. ■• rSEFCL TO HIMSELF OR TO HIS FEXLOW-BEOGS."— Page 30. A sensible Englishman thought me wrong in this assumption! yet I cannot but repeat it, and in support of my opinion I wiU giye the only passage in BeU's Essay, which actuaUy speaks of the hand in corre- spondence with the mind. " The hand which is to becmne the instru- ment for perfecting the other senses, and dctdaping the endowmunU of the mind itself, is in infants absebOefypaweHess.- This {Mssage is aU-sufficient to establish the correctness of my position. I hare seen exhibitions of little petty anicles of workmanship, curioos, because exe- cuted by men or women who had no hands ; but which in point of art or utility had not the slightest value. NOTE H. "geography.-- — Page 36. Some one has blamed my putting such a question to an ignorant man, and thus placing myself as it were, on a par with him and his cart- horse, and I was further told to recollect, that the most useful branch of knowledge is not to ask a foolish question. It is evident that this critic mis- understood me, or did not read the whole passage, else he would have dis- covered that it was precisely from my addressing myself to an ignorant 48 man of both nations tliat I wished to establish my position of the superior- ity of original over originated languages. But, suppose that, in lieu of the term geography, I had chosen one less generally understood ; for ex- ample, the term stelog-raphy, it is more than probable that a well-edu- cated man, who nevertheless knew only his mother tongue, would not comprehend its meaning, while its equivalent, Sdulenschrift, in the German, would be perfectly understood by a German of not the least education. NOTE I. " NOR SHOULD OUR RESEARCH BE THOUGHT FASTIDIOUS.'' — PagC 38. I know not a work that would prove of more utility than a derivative dictionary of all those words from the ancient languages which we have adopted for moral ideas and for sciences. Were we to examine the roots of each of these classes of words, and that of their component part, we would be struck with astonishment at the obscure and often false inter- pretation which we have given them ; whilst our minds would be filled with admiration at the extended and sublime, yet natural character of their real meaning. NOTE K. " TO DESTROY." — Page 39. This operation, as also to instruct, is the act of man. In nature there is neither instruction nor destruction, all things being subject to cer- tain laws, and the changes we perceive in objects being necessary to the preservation of the whole. Not so with the creations of man : not being the work of Omniscience, they are subjected to the nothingness which, from their imperfect and often capricious origin, must inevita- bly be their doom. NOTE K. '' HARMONY AND UNITY." — Page 40. Every thing in nature feels the necessity of this. Beauty in any ob- ject is only a harmonious proportion and unity of its parts ; and if children and even animals look with pleasure on such objects, how much more is it required that man, who has attained the full strength of his faculties and mental powers, should study its importance, and regu- late his actions by it. NOTE M. "the ORGAN-BUILDER HAVING CONSTRUCTED THE INSTRUMENT." — Page 40. Here we have an example of the difference existing between the work of man and that of nature. Nature never errs, and all her crea- tions are endowed with self-acting powers, while the creations of man are inert and passive. 019 810 605 7 'i^