upon himself. And now, boys, said the minister in conclusion, whose sheep are you stealing, when you thus waste your time and opportunities? The question is one that every Student would do well to put to himself, "Whose sheep are you stealing ?"

Not only earnestness is necessary for the Student, but practicality. The truth as well as the melancholy beauty of that oft-quoted line, "Life is real, life is earnest," never fails to strike home. In this practical country, and in this material age, there are but few who can dally in the arms of the Muses, and from the heights of Parnassus, calmly survey the moving world around. Most have got to meet the sterner realities of life, and meet them manfully and boldly or fall in the encounter. They cannot be handled with gloves, nor will it do to take hold with the tips of the fingers, as one would shake hands with a fashionable lady. So all should aim in their culture for the real and practical. We do not mean that a man should direct all his attention to fitting for some particular profession, while in College. His discipline there should have a broader character, above all professions, subservient to none. But he must live in the world, not in an intellectual sphere, furnished with a garniture from his own ideality. It is easy for the scholar to affect this state, and be ignorant or careless of all that is real. But he who can carry his education into the world, and not sully his scholastic robes; he who can live in the world, and yet not be of the world, is truly great and noble.

We do not know whether we have succeeded in making clear what our idea is of what an educated gentleman should be. We have stated the question negatively, and told what discipline and characteristics do not belong to an educated gentleman, rather than those which do. The term is commonly used in reference to all College graduates, and in its general acceptance is one of great latitude. We would have the phrase limited to its literal and primary significance. College Students, in many respects, are a noble class of men, social companions, warm friends, generous enemies. But the standard of educated gentlemen needs to be raised, and it is the Students who must do it. Will they consider the matter, and enable our Colleges

to graduate a class of men, from year to year, whose education is not all of the intellect, and whose gentlemanly demeanor is not the mere polish of society, but whose culture and adornment shall be of and in the heart? We can in no way better express our idea, than by citing a single example.

In the quiet village of Amherst there lives a man, who never graduated at a College, yet has been a College President; he never sought fame, but his fame is world-wide; he never looked for honor, but honor has come to him; he never longed for distinction, yet his name is distinguished even in foreign lands; he never called himself a scholar, yet his learning is deep and rare; he never tried to be a gentleman, for he never could be anything else. Though he has given nature some hard knocks, yet she has whispered that in his ear, which she never before revealed to mortals. With all his learning and accomplishments, he has always been the same Christian gentleman, and all his varied acquirements have ever been at the service of his pupils. Though Father Time has dealt lightly with him, his form is beginning to be somewhat bowed, his hair is turning gray, his footstep is somewhat less firm than was its wont. But how little there is of such a man, that in reality will ever die. His name will be loved and revered in every clime, long after his majestic form shall have ceased forever to frequent the vales and climb the hills he has loved so well; and his fame, deeply engraved in the adamantine rocks, shall be handed down from generation to generation, through all time, till the rocks themselves shall crumble to dust, and the hills shall be "melted like wax." Though he has received more honorary titles than almost any other living American, yet he is best known among his friends, and loves best to be called simply by the name of EDWARD HITCHCOCK.

Such men the church and the world need. The demand of the age is for educated gentlemen, much more than for ministers, lawyers or doctors; men who will exert an influence, not only without the assistance of fortune and station, but in spite of them; men whose education is not merely superficial, whose gentlemanly demeanor springs from the kindly impulses of the heart, and is not that which is made to order, at the rooms of

any dancing-master; men who are not so fastidious that they cannot labor in common things for the good of humanity, and for whom it is necessary to pray, as did a Methodist minister at a camp-meeting, for a too-delicate brother: "O Lord, we pray Thee, take the polish from Brother Jackson." By adding the word Christian to our title, we shall have that which expresses the highest type, the most exalted form of humanity. He who is in very truth an educated Christian gentleman, is the noblest work of God's creation, and has reached the highest perfection attainable here. He need have no care for his present reputation, no fear for his future destiny. Would that every Student would labor more faithfully, more earnestly for such a desirable consummation; that all would be more "inflamed with the study of learning, and the admiration of virtue; stirred up with high hopes of living to be brave men and worthy patriots, dear to God and famous to all ages."

ARTICLE VII.—THE GOTHIC.

If it were possible for every human being to become a subtle critic in all matters pertaining to literature, and the fine arts, and, could their criticisms be universally known and respected, both of these departments of human skill and knowledge would advance more in one century than they have in sixty; and ultimately would attain a position where their productions would admit of no encomium or censure, for all would be perfectness. This, however, can never happen, any more than that all men can become wealthy or happy. But while we relinquish the hope of realizing such Utopias, we should cherish the ambition of approximating to supreme excellence in all things, as nearly as possible. It devolves, as a duty, upon educated men, who are already cultivated and refined in literature, to appropriate a portion of their time and labor, to the study of the fine arts; to study in order to criticise; to criticise in order to improve.

There are disadvantages connected with these studies in the United States, which are felt but little or not at all in Europe; one obstacle is, that these arts "must grow up side by side with the coarser plants of daily necessity;" and another is, that we have not continually in our sight, the great works of the great masters in painting, sculpture and architecture; and although the short roll-call of our artists, boasts many illustrious names, years upon years of earnest self-denying labor must pass, before we can attain anything like supremacy in the fine arts.

Before all others, architecture is the art in which we are likely to excel; not only because that is the parent of sculpture and painting, but because we possess the best building materials in the world, of all characters and colors; and because our modern built cities, with their broad streets and spacious squares, offer the best advantages for a rich and effective architecture. The study of this art is so easy, and its principles so readily applied, that it would be a fault in the training of an educated man, if he could not analyze a build

ing; study and compare the effects; find what produces good, and what bad impressions, what heightens and what diminishes them, and pronounce judgment upon the whole combined.

It is the object of this article-as far as its briefness will admit to compare the spirit of the gothic style of architecture with the orders that preceded it; not viewing them from the stand-point of the ancients, but considering how far they are applicable to the purposes of the moderns.

It is said that the main impression on the mind of one gazing upon the remains of Egyptian architecture, is that of awe at the power which could raise such enormous masses, and put them together with such exquisite skill. This is not, however, the effect which the architects of Egypt had in view, for to men living in the time of the erection of the pyramids and temples, there would be no feeling of awe, or even of wonder, at the power which they daily saw and exercised.

But there is, even to the modern mind, fortified by a true religion, a feeling-whether before the blank, mysterious solemnity of the pyramids, or among the enigmatical complexities of the Hall of Carnac,-a feeling of mystery not belonging to their antiquity, which runs back into the gloom of time, where the eye of science and learning cannot pierce; but it comes from the sphinxes, from the obelisks covered with puzzling hieroglyphs, from the curious carvings, and from the grouping of the whole; and this feeling so bewilders the mind that it is helpless; it seeks for something to lean upon, and would credit the grossest impostures that ever wrought mischief in the world. Never were any agencies employed by a religious faith, better adapted to bringing the minds of men into utter subjection to the power of a theocracy than the temples of Egypt. This explains the objects which the architects had in view; for the spirit which pervaded their productions, and which even now lingers about them, is the Mystery of Priestcraft.

In all countries governed by a true democracy, there must be an openness and publicity in all governmental affairs that shall defy suspicion and challenge inquest; and the same