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SPEECH 
 
 
 THADDEUS STEVENS, -feSO. 
 
 IN FAVOR OF THE BILL TO ESTABLISH 
 
 A SCHOOL, OF ARTS 
 
 IN THE CITY OF PHILADELPHIA, AND TO ENDOW THE 
 COLLEGES AND ACADEMIES OF PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES AT HARRISBUHG, 
 
 March 10th, 1838. 
 
 REPORTED IN SHORT HAND 
 
 BY 
 M. T. O. GOULD. 
 
 PRINTED BY TnEOPHILUS FEIfJf. 
 
 1838. 
 

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SPEECH, Ac. 
 
 Mr. Speaker, It requires a good deal of courage, or rather 
 insensibility, to address the House in an afternoon session of a 
 sunny day. Yet, although the reasons in favor of this bill have 
 been well and ably urged, and although the objections have been 
 rather insinuated and hinted at, than urged, yet I cannot help fear- 
 ing that there is more hostility to the bill than it merits. I consider 
 it as the most important proposition, and one most worthy the serious 
 and candid consideration of this House, of any which has yet been 
 brought before it.— One which, in my judgment, more nearly con- 
 cerns our honor, and the interest of this great Commonwealth, than 
 any that can be brought before it. 
 
 C I think it is generally admitted that within the last few years, 
 Pennsylvania has acquired more honor by her legislation upon the 
 subject of Education, than she had ever done before^ and I cannot 
 help believing, that those under whose auspices that legislation tool; 
 place, will be gratefully remembered in after times ; and that the name 
 of the Governor, who, fortunately, I admit, for the honor and inter- 
 ests of Pennsylvania, gave place to the present firm, intelligent, an 
 independent Executive, when the faults and follies of his party politics 
 shall have been forgotten, will stand out prominently and honorably 
 upon the records of Time, as a great benefactor of the human race, 
 for his bold, manly, and persevering efforts in favor of Education. 
 I trust I may say thus much in justice, without the imputation of 
 flattery. — That gentleman's political sun has set forever. Pow- 
 er, patronage, and official favor, will never again, to any great 
 extent, be dispensed by him. Now flatterers and sycophants, 
 would rather shun and reproach, than approach and applaud him. 
 
 But I trust that political prejudice and party rancor will never be 
 permitted to do permanent injustice to meritorious actions. For it 
 should be remembered that the life of public men is a life of calumny 
 and misery. When, therefore, they have retired, let their good deeds 
 be inscribed on tables of brass, and over their errors be thrown 
 the mantle of oblivion./ But great and creditable as have hitherto been 
 the efforts of Pennsylvania in the cause of Education, I trust she is 
 not yet exhausted ; but while she is only in the vigor of youth in her 
 physical strength, she has not yet attained the maturity of manhood, 
 much less the decrepitude of old age, in her mental energies. But that 
 
this legislature, and many future deliberative bodies here, will go on 
 acquiring increasing lustre, by their efforts in favor of useful knowledge. 
 The degree of civilization and intellectual cultivation of every nation 
 on earth, may be ascertained, and accurately estimated, by the amount 
 of encouragement which they give, not by individual contributions, 
 for these only show private liberality, but by permanent laws to 
 common schools and common education, and to the higher branches 
 of knowledge. Nor does it seem possible to separate the higher from 
 the lower branches of education, without injuring, if not paralizing 
 the prosperity of both. They are as mutually dependant and neces- 
 sary to each other's existence and prosperity, as are the ocean and 
 the streams by which it is supplied. For while the ocean supplies the 
 quickening principle of the springs, they in turn pour their united 
 tribute to the common reservoir — thus mutually replenishing each 
 other. So colleges, and academies, furnish and propogate the 
 seeds of knowledge for common schools ; and they transfer their 
 most thrifty plants to these more carefully and more highly cul- 
 tivated gardens of knowledge. I am aware that there are many 
 honest, highly respectable, and somewhat intelligent gentlemen 
 here, and elsewhere, who, while they fully appreciate, and frankly 
 acknowledge the advantages of common schools, doubt or deny the 
 utility of the higher branches of learning^ 
 
 Mr. Speaker, this subject demands careful examination, and candid 
 argument, and in that spirit I trust we shall meet it. And I believe 
 that a little careful and candid reflection, will convince gentlemen that 
 in all their objections, they err. (/They object that colleges are schools 
 for the rich, and not for the poor — that classical learning is useless in 
 the common walks of life — that it is soon forgotten — that it tends to 
 produce idleness by promoting pride and vanity ;— this is the argument 
 of one gentleman here, and of many elsewhere. 
 
 It may be true, that unendowed Colleges are accessible only to the 
 rich ; but that shows the necessity of endowing them, and thus open- 
 ing their doors to the meritorious poor. Extend public aid to these- 
 inatitutions, and thus reduce the rate of tuition ; In short, render 
 learning cheap and honourable, and he who has genius, no matter 
 how poor he may be, will find the means of improving it. It can 
 hardly be seriously contended, that liberal education is useless to man 
 in any condition of life. So long as the only object of our earthly 
 existence is hrppiness, enlarged knowledge must be useful to every 
 intellect jal being, high or low, rich or poor — unless you consider 
 happiness as consisting in the mere vulgar gratification of the animal 
 
appetites and passions; Then indeed that man, like the brute, is hap- 
 piest who has the most flesh and blood, the strongest sinews, and the 
 stoutest stomach. It may be true, and probably is, that the mere 
 literal and verbal part of classic education is soon forgotten, es- 
 pecially in this country, where so few inherit sufficient wealth to raise 
 them above the necessity of constantly following some business to 
 provide for themselves and dependent families : but the impressions 
 which it makes — the noble principles which it inspires, can never be 
 erased from the mind. Besides, it tends to develope the mental facul- 
 ties and give them a strength, solidity and energy, which they could 
 never otherwise acquire. Just as you see workmen build a massive 
 and high arch over a wooden frame, without which they never could 
 have reared and united it — yet when it is united and becomes dry, it 
 not only retains its shape, but is capable of sustaining almost any 
 amount of superadded useful weight, although the wooden frame 
 work is rotted away or removed. 
 /f Never was there a grosser or more injurious error than to suppose 
 that learning begets pride. Ignorance is the parent of pride and dis- 
 gusting vanity ; he only has censurable pride, who has too little 
 knowledge to know that he is himself a fool. But he who has long 
 and arduously labored up the hill of science, and then found himself 
 but standing upon the threshhold of her temple — who, after a toil- 
 some, and perhaps successful examination of the works of nature and 
 of art, discovers that he has scarcely yet entered upon the confines of 
 the inimitable works of an omnicient artist, will surely find nothing 
 in his own weak, blind insignificance, to flatter pride or foster vanity. 
 It is the illiterate, ignorant, senseless, witless coxcomb that struts and 
 fumes, proud perhaps of his ignorance, himself, his baubles, and his 
 folly. 
 
 Sir, I trust I need add nothing more to show the advantages of a 
 liberal education. I believe that the proposed permanent mode of 
 providing for the higher institutions of learning, is more useful to the 
 cause of science, and more economical to the State, than the present 
 uncertain mode of appropriations by the legislature. In times of high 
 prosperity these institutions can maintain themselves; but when the 
 country is overtaken by seasons of adversity, which are inseparable 
 from all communities, and more frequently befall Republics than any 
 other Nations, because their freedom of thought, action, and specula- 
 tion, renders their course of policy and laws less stable and certain than 
 in more despotic governments— these institutions arc obliged to im- 
 pose increased burthens upon their diminished number of students, or 
 
suspend operations. Men of good talents and high acquirements caa 
 with difficulty be found to embark their fortunes upon such uncertain 
 foundations ; those, especially, whose daily bread depends upon their 
 daily labour, are entirely excluded ; and thus these institutions lose 
 the services of the most learned and industrious teachers. For it will 
 be admitted, that those who have obtained their diplomas in defiance 
 of poverty are more likely to be industrious and learned than their 
 wealthy class-mates. 
 
 It seems to me that true economy would be consulted by making ap- 
 propriations small, but permanent. The present sum proposed is so 
 small asjalmost to make a Pennsylvanian blush to find it opposed. — 
 The thirty or forty thousand dollars, which is asked for all these in- 
 stitutions is a less sum than you appropriate annually to keep in repair 
 a single section of your canals, to be disbursed and expended by a 
 single agent. Though we have appropriated less in all, to Colleges 
 and Acadamies, than single institutions of other States are worth, yet 
 some of our institutions have received in money and lands, I believe 
 50, or $100,000; and being thus full of funds for a while, they flour- 
 ished in luxury, if not in idleness, and neglected what was necessary 
 for their future prosperity and preservation. But if the same amount 
 had been sparingly, but permanently appropriated — combining the aid 
 of Government with their own industry and economy, these institu- 
 tions would have been perfectly prepared to meet the adversity of the 
 times. They could have given a certain living to their Professors, 
 and they could have been assured, that their situations were perma- 
 nent. This would add much to the cause of science, and equally, I 
 trust every gentleman here will think, to the glory of the Stale. These 
 institutions being permanent and prosperous would reduce the price 
 of education, and thus enable the aspiring sons of the poor man to be- 
 come equally learned with the rich. Then should we no longer see 
 the struggling genius, of the humble, obstructed, and as now; stopped 
 midway in the paths of science ; but we should see them reach- 
 ing the farthest goal of their noblest ambition. Then, the Laurel 
 wreath would no longer be the purchase of gold, but the reward 
 of honest merit. Then the yeomanry of our country would shine 
 forth in'their grandeur, the proudest ornament of the nation. In these 
 nationai workshops of science, the gem of the peasant would be pol- 
 ished, till it out-s.honc the jewel of the Prince. 
 
 1 am aware that the too great increase of the number of Colleges is 
 feared by some. I bave no such apprehension. With a population 
 mcK-jsinnr as fast as ours i.s — with a soil and a territory capable of 
 supporting ten millioni? of inhabitants ; with free schools to plant the 
 
seeds and the desire of knowledge in every mind; with discriminating 
 parents to encourage and select those most anxious and best fitted for 
 scientific acquirements, there is little danger that we shall have too 
 many institutions for the education of our youth. 
 
 Why, sir, I trust and believe that the time is but just ahead, when 
 our most barren mountains, now without inhabitants, shall swarm 
 with a useful and industrious population, digging and converting into 
 individual and national wealth, the vast treasures now burried be- 
 neath their surface. Then, the farmers of the valleys — those who are 
 now called upon to aid in the cause of science and of arts, will be no 
 longer dependant on a foreign market for the disposal of their pro- 
 duce; it will all be wanted to feed those inhabitants of the mountains, 
 who are, and must be, employed in disemboweling the earth of its 
 treasures. With such a teeming population and such riches, there is 
 little danger that we shall have too many schools, but rather, that we 
 shall scarcely find institutions enough to cultivate the youthful mind. 
 But if there were danger, I think this is well calculated to cure the 
 evil. That spirit of economy, I will not say parsimony, which usu- 
 ally governs legislatures, would tend to restrain their multiplication. — 
 Every institution that is hereafter chartered, would be entitled to re- 
 ceive the annuity fixed by this law. That would prevent the incor- 
 poration of any unnecessary ones. /Now any charter can be procured 
 at first without any appropriation ; but this may be continued till they 
 are sufficiently multiplied to control the Legislature and procure lav- 
 ish appropriations to the danger of exhausting the treasury, if not of 
 breaking in upon the common school fund itself. I hope this 
 House will see that a permanent method of making appropriations, is 
 more useful to science, and more economical than the present mode — 
 surely it would be, more honourable to our law givers,to deem such a 
 subject as this, worthy of a permanent place upon our statute books, 
 than leave it as it now is, with a cold constitutional recommendation 
 to the way-ward care of fugitive legislation. 
 
 I cannot help fearing from what we have heard from the gentleman 
 from Venango, as to the inutility of learning, that there is in this 
 community too great and growing an inclination, to undervalue clas- 
 sical knowledge. If we foster this disposition, is there not danger 
 that in some future revolution of the condition of the world, the light 
 of science will be entirely extinguished ? When the Barbarians made 
 war, not only upon Rome but upon all learning, what, and who 
 preserved the arts, and sciences, and knowledge of antiquity from 
 utter oblivion I Not common schools, and gentlemen of common 
 
; 
 
 8 
 
 education, useful as they are. During the long and gloomy period 
 of the dark ages, they were preserved and fostered, and finally 
 restored by liberally educated priests, and learned monks ; and 
 if they did no other good, we owe the existence of science, as it now 
 is, to thern. This light of knowledge is so easily extinguished, and 
 eo hard and tedious to be rekindled, that it ought to be as carefully 
 guarded, night and day, as was ever the sacred fare by the vestal 
 virgins. 
 
 But ought we not to look beyond the present moment, and inquire 
 into the effect which the arts and sciences are to have upon the posthu- 
 mous glory of our country ? Nations, like individuals, sport but a 
 brief scene upon this stage of action, and then pass away into the ob- 
 livion of their own ignorance, or into that immortality which their civ- 
 ilization and intellectual cultivation have provided for them. Little as 
 we think of it now, such will, perhaps, at no distant day, be the fate 
 of this nation. And who does not desire his country to live in the 
 memory of posterity? Does any gentleman think that we shall not> 
 like other nations, feel the frost of time and crumble to decay ? As 
 surely as we can judge of the future from the past, the day will come 
 when even civilization will leave us, and travel onward perhaps to 
 some yet undiscovered country ; or, having made the circle of the hab- 
 itable globe, return, re-occupy and refurbish her ancient but now 
 deserted habitations ; when, perhaps, as an act of retributive justice, 
 this fair soil shall be retrod by the foot of the barbarian, from which he 
 has been, i* being, and I fear will continue to be expelled by Christian 
 treachery, and robbery, and murder^ When your richest and proudest 
 cities, though now gladdened and enlivened with the commerce of 
 every clime, shall be like ancient Tyre, or modern Venice ; when 
 your vast system of Improvements, which is now annually covered 
 with the richest productions of the fairest land and happiest people 
 on earth, shall be forgotten ; when your Canals shall be obliterated 
 ditches, and ycur Iron Railroads, which, for utility, put to blush the 
 proudest inventions of antiquity, shall be less known and less used than 
 are now the Flaminian or Appian ways of Rome ; when these rich, 
 fertile, lovely vallies, now literally flowing with milk and honey, shall 
 belike the deserted plains of Palestine. 
 
 Is there any gentleman who thinks this an idle vision of fancy? 
 Need I remind you of the trite, but eloquent example of Troy, whose 
 very name, and the names of the mighty men who did such deeds of 
 valor around and within her bcleagured walls, would now be unknown 
 if they had not been given to fame by the learning of the Grecian 
 
Bard. Her very site was a frequent and a fit theme of antiquarian 
 argument. 
 
 If this allusion should be unintelligible to the opponents of this 
 bill — if the writings of Homer should chance to be Greek to them — 
 I pray them to consult their Biblical information, of which, I suppose, 
 they would all be ashamed to be ignorant, and ask, what is now the 
 condition of the once proud, populous, and powerful capitol of Edom, 
 whose armed warriors were the terror of surrounding nations. Till 
 within a few years, for ten centuries, its very location was unknown 
 to the civilized world, notwithstanding its former grandeur. It is true 
 that discoveries have been lately made, that show us permanent eviden- 
 ces of her former greatness, that I fear we shall not leave behind us. 
 You may now behold her houses, and palaces, and temples, and 
 theatres, and tombs, more magnificent than the dwellings of many 
 nations, cut with immense labor and ingenious art from the solid rock ; 
 there, to be sure, they may ever be seen, until, perhaps, the solid 
 granite shall become fluid in the boiling crucible of the Almighty. 
 It. is true she is still surrounded by her rock-built ramparts; but 
 they have not passed away with her population, only because they 
 are the work of the Eternal Architect. v But where are the descendants 
 of those who once rendered vocal those halls, and palaces, and tem- 
 ples, and theatres? Nought remains of them, but their empty tomb3 
 — no human voice now breaks the silence of that desolation. The 
 owl literally dwells in the house of the rich man, and thi dragon 
 reigns in the palace of princes. Viewing such ruin as the doomed 
 fate of Nations, who does not desire to be able to look down this 
 broad and desolating gulph of time, and amidst its destruction, behold 
 his own country forever flourishing like the green and flowery oasis in 
 the midst of a barren desert ? Can any one be insensible to these mo- 
 tvies? Is there a gentleman within these walls? — Is there a human being 
 any where, whose tabernacle of clay is inhabited by a living soul, that 
 doe3 not anxiously desire to see the fair fame and noble deeds of his 
 native land, instead of being blotted and blurred by Boetian ignor- 
 ance, recorded in letters of living light, by the bright pen of the 
 historic muse? 
 
 I am comparatively a stranger among you — born in another, in 
 a distant state — no parent or kindred of mine did, does, or pro- 
 bably ever will dwell within your borders. I have none of those 
 strong cords to bind me to your honor and your interest — yet, if 
 there is any one thing on earth which I ardently desire above 
 all others, it is to see Pennsylvania standing up in her in- 
 
10 
 
 tellectual, as she confessedly does in her physical resources — high 
 above all her confederated rivals. How shameful, then, would it 
 be, for these her native sons to feel less so, when the dust of 
 their ancestors is mingled with her soil — their friends and relatives 
 enjoy her present prosperity — and their descendants, for long ages 
 to come, will partake of her happiness or misery, her glory, oi- 
 lier infamy ! 
 
 How are we to secure for our country this great good— this 
 meed of earthly immortality ? Not by riches, which some gen- 
 tlemen so highly value. Croesus is remembered only to be des- 
 pised. What was it that has given such fresh and durable renown 
 to the comparatively circumscribed and barren territory of Athens, 
 of Sparta, of all Greece ? Not her wealth. Sparta was more 
 renowned even for her poverty, than was ever the silken Per" 
 sian with his heaps of gold — it was not her military grandeur ; 
 for, sir, great as she was in arms, she was still greater, and is more 
 renowned for her arts and sciences. Which will longest live 
 — the name and the fame of Solon, or of the victors and victories 
 of Marathon and Salamis ? Which will soonest die — (if indeed 
 either be destructable) the name of the law -giver of Sparta, or of 
 his fellow countryman, the mighty captain of Thermopylae ? — 
 Whatever may be said of her deeds of patriotic valor, her true and 
 lasting glory will ever be found in her civil institutions — in the 
 wisdom of her laws, her academic groves, the schools and porticos 
 of her philosopherSjthe writings of her poets, and the forum of her 
 orators. If we are not altogether insensible to such considera- 
 tions, let us, in our humble way, do all in our power, not only to 
 lay broad and deep the foundations, but to build the beautiful su- 
 perstructure, and raise high the monuments of science. For, 
 when everything else that belongs to this nation, shall have yield- 
 ed to the scythe of the destroyer, their smooth and polished surfa- 
 ces alone shall withstand the rust, and bid defiance to the tooth 
 of lime. 
 
 Hitherto, we have considered this subject with reference to our 
 temporary, or perhaps I ought rather to say, our temporal condi- 
 tion. But ought we not to look a little further to see it in its su- 
 blimest aspect? Inspiring to all generous minds as are these 
 themes of earthly glory — degrading as is the miser's lust and 
 dastard's fear, in subjects of this kind, yet it seems to me there 
 is one still more ennobling view of it ? And, I trust it will not be 
 
11 
 
 deemed affectation in me, to suggest whether it be not worthy of, 
 dueto,and demanded by the dignity of the legislators of a great and 
 powerful state, to examine into the effect of liberal and enlarged 
 knowledge,upon the spiritual, the immortal portion of man. If it be 
 true, as I verily believe it is, that in another state of existence, 
 man starts from the same point of intellectual elevation which he 
 may have attained on earth — forms his associations, his enjoy- 
 ments, and his honors accordingly ; if this world be but a state 
 of probation for another and a loftier one, how anxious should 
 we all be, so far as in us lies, to use every means to enlarge our 
 souls, and make them fit companions for celestial' beings — to ele- 
 vate our intellectual statures, so that we may stand proudly up 
 along side ot tall archangels ? Is this, indeed, the high destiny 
 of man, and shall we suffer ourselves to be degraded, and our 
 souls cramped and shriveled by listening to cold, selfish, miserly 
 calculations of the cost and the value of intellectual — of immortal 
 greatness ? What value has wealth, as was well asked by the 
 gentleman from Allegheny, (Mr. W^tts,) unless it be to afford 
 the means of usefulness here, and of happiness and glory here- 
 after ? Gold ! Why speak of it ! By the unanimous opinion of 
 all decent men, how little, and mean, and despicable is that miser's 
 soul who dotes over its barren heaps ? 
 
 I have often thought, and wished, that I was the owner or 
 the trustee of the whole mountain of Ophir. I would scatter its 
 yellow dirt upon the human intellect, until, if there be one fertili- 
 zing property in it, every young idea should shoot forth with 
 overshadowing luxuriance. But uhy do we seek arguments, to 
 prove what ought never to be doubted,— the high utility and glory 
 of liberal learning ? The necessity to do so contradicts the fond- 
 est theories of ancient philosophers. They vainly, it seems, be- 
 lieved that man would go on progressively from one degree of 
 improvement to another, till he attained perfection. 
 
 When we compare the arts, and sciences, and knowledge which 
 existed in antiquity, with those of modern times — the architecture 
 and the sculpture of Egypt and of Babylon ; the poetry, paint- 
 ing and eloquence of Greece and Rome, with those of modern 
 Europe and America, we are humbled and mortified, at our little 
 advance in any, and inferiority in most of them. 
 
 To all reflecting minds, it must be a melancholy consideration, 
 that in the middle of the nineteenth century— amidst the noon-day 
 of the Christian era, we are compelled to raise our feeble voices 
 
12 
 
 in defence or in eulogy of that cause which long ages ago was 
 rendered immortal by the verse of Homer and the polished prose 
 of Cicero. 
 
 " And must this theme so long divine," 
 
 " Degenerate into hands like mine ?" 
 Will any gentleman urge, that any sum, much less this paltry 
 trifle, is too much for such a high, and lofty, and glorious an ob- 
 ject ? Have we not long enough drank of the bitter waters of 
 avarice and ignorance ? And shall a sweeter draft never be pre- 
 sented to us ? Yes. Let us go on to exercise the same liberality 
 in this respect that has characterized Pennsylvania in every other, 
 and we shall soon see these little fountains, scattered by our crea- 
 tive hands over this great state, sending forth perennially, forever, 
 their sweet rivulets, till this whole Commonwealth shall become 
 one mighty ocean of Pierean waters. Then will have arrived the 
 true, genuine — the only real intellectual millenium. Would to 
 God we could all live to see its full fruition ; but that may not 
 be. Life, at best, is but a «pan — a few more worthless days, and 
 death's arrow will have touched the youngest and stoutest among 
 us. But, if that happy period should be reserved for posterity, let 
 us do all in our power, and by our present acts give an earnest 
 assurance that it will speedily arive.and the pleasing anticipation 
 of it will be sufficient consolation for me, and I trust for all of us, 
 amid whatever perplexities we may be doomed to encounter, du- 
 ring the brief period of time 3 et alloted us upon this little, dirty, 
 despicable earth. 
 
 I owe an apology to you, and to this House, for thus long de- 
 taining you from that rich intellectual banquet, which, I trust, 
 every man here is about to partlike of, by voting for this noble bill, 
 so honorable to ourselves, and so useful for long ages upon age§ 
 to come — to civilized, cultivated, intellectual man. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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