enterprise. Where can we go, in all this vast continent of ours, that we do not find the busy, painstaking, reading, thinking, and thriving Yankee? Brain-culture seems to be the proper business of a people situated as these are. Nor have we any reason to envy the sources of trade and commerce and wealth of any other region of our country, so long as we can rear up for export a crop of intelligent, educated men to supply the market for brain, which is becoming more and more a national necessity, as our country fills up from foreign emigration, which is to share it with her own native children.

And if an earnest assurance were wanted that the heart and brain which is to supply this demand is already being actively educated, and sensitively alive to the solemn ministry to which it is to be consecrated, we should find it in the tone of almost every address made, or sentiment uttered, in every public exercise since the fall of Richmond, in every school, academy, or college, in New England. Questions which before that scarce the wisest dared to grapple with, have been made the themes of declamation and intense feeling before crowded assemblies; and passionate words of right and duty, in view of the new attitude which social and political relations have assumed in the changes wrought out by this Rebellion, have been echoed by the cheers of an equally passionate and earnest audience. These may not all

savor of wisdom or prudence, but they are unmistakable indications of the resistless energy which has been aroused in the educated brain not only of the schools and colleges of New England, but of the thinking, acting masses of her people.

It is the men born here, reared and trained and educated here in our schools and our colleges, on our farms and in our workshops, who are to go forth into these regions where war has been making such havoc, to shed new light upon a people's mind, to give dignity to labor, to teach by example as well as precept, to plant the school-house, to rear the church, to spread abroad a love of books, and awaken an interest and a curiosity in the minds of the unlettered. It is in this way that the North may work upon the ruder metal of the Southern mind, and at length, from even the discordant elements of the North and South and East and West, may form and fashion an adamantine chain of national ties and sympathies, whose links no violence can break, nor art can sever.

I have no occasion, for my present purpose, to exaggerate the power of an educated brain in restoring, reforming, and reinvigorating the regions over which is seen the track of war. There will spring up a verdure deeper and richer than ever before marked the spot where our sons and brothers are sleeping beneath the sod on which they fell in many a battle-field of the South, Nor will it need any

monument of art, beyond the green turf and the tender wild-flower with which Nature will deck their last resting-place, to tell the inquirer where the brave men of the loyal States laid down their lives in the cause of their country and of human rights.

So it will be in the fields of moral and intellectual culture which are now opening to the laborer in the sunny region of the South. There will spring up there an influence as soft, as beautiful, and as lifegiving as ever came forth when the breath of Spring was seen in the wakening forms of beauty along the vale or on the hill-side, in the institutions of learning and benevolence which the men of the North will plant and rear there.

And now, in closing, let me remind you that no little share of this great and mighty work is for you, and those who are to fill your places, to accomplish. You are to stimulate that brain, you are to nationalize that heart, you are to train the men who are to go forth in God's strength to do battle, like the knights of old, with ignorance and oppression, with the spirit and fruits of slavery and barbarism.

Let no one, then, as he gathers his little group of young immortals around him, and remembers that he is to them a pattern as well as a teacher, ever again feel that his task is an irksome or a thankless one. There may be no record of what you are doing kept here on earth. There may be no monument of bronze

or marble to mark where you rest, when your last vacation shall come. But over this whole nation there will be scattered living records and living monuments of the good you shall have accomplished, in the educated mind whose power you helped to train, whose love of liberty you helped to quicken, and whose power to guide and govern others you helped to develop by your influence and example.

LECTURE IV.

DYNAMIC AND MECHANIC TEACHING.

BY PROF. W. P. ATKINSON.

FELLOW-TEACHERS,

AND LADIES AND GENTLEMEN:

MR. CARLYLE, in one of those beautiful early essays of his which we can all read with so much pleasure, — would that the utterances of his old age were as worthy of his genius!—says, "There is a science of dynamics in man's fortune and nature, as well as a science of mechanics. There is a science which treats of, and practically addresses, the primary, unmodified forces and energies of man, the mysterious springs of love, and fear, and wonder, of enthusiasm, poetry, religion, all which have a truly vital and infinite character; as well as a science which practically addresses the finite, modified developments of these, when they take the shape of motives, as hope of reward, and fear of punishment."

The whole tone of Mr. Carlyle's later writings, his worship of brute power, or of mere intellectual ability, as exemplified in his elaborate attempts to turn such a man as Frederic into a hero, above