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instruction in our literature has yet been adopted generally, though culture everywhere languishes under the neglect. In this, as in other things, our words and works display their usual inconsistency. We complain, and complain justly, that with us artistic taste remains either undeveloped or is developed imperfectly, because the masterpieces of painting and sculpture are uot here to be seen and studied. Yet, what right have we to make such a complaint, when a kindred culture and taste suffers from the neglect of master-pieces that are accessible to all, and whose very accessibility causes them td be disregarded and despised? We now go through English literature like the night-traveler on a great railway line, who whirled rapidly through hamlet and village, and city, reaches his destination at last with no knowledge of the country he has been through; nothing indeed, left upon his mind but a vivid consciousness of the weariness of his journey, and a confused remembrance of names and stations. We ask that this shall not simply be reformed indifferently, but shall be reformed altogether; that the chief agency in the refinement of mind, the cultivation of taste, and the development of expression, shall no longer be left to random study or individual caprice; and if Milton, in a less enlightened age, could avow his conviction that Spenser was a better teacher than Scotus or Aquinas, we may be pardoned for the belief that such seed, sown in youth, will in later years flower out into a broad and generous culture and a manly life.
Article III.—YALE COLLEGE—SOME THOUGHTS RESPECTING ITS FUTURE.
In the last number of the New Englander, we made some suggestions in respect to the peculiar and distinctive work of the new era, on which the friends of Yale College believe it to be about to enter. The limits of the Article, which was then published, allowed us only to consider this work in a single line, or in one of its departments,—namely, that of unifying the institution, so as to make it no longer a Collegiate school, with certain "outside" departments loosely attached to the central body, but a University of coordinate and coequal branches. Unless this end is accomplished—we believe we express the sentiment of every friend of the College, whose mind is not unduly under the influence of erroneous ideas derived from the past—a University, in the best sense of that word, cannot exist in New Haven. The time has come when a step forward in this direction must be taken, or the inevitable result will be, that the institution will fall backward, sooner or later, into an inferior place. It will belong rather to the class of mere colleges, than to that higher class which will, in the future, deservedly have the higher name. This work of unification is, also, the first work that should be undertaken and carried out. It is essential to the noblest growth of the institution, and it is essential that it be done at once. It is, therefore, most proper that, in any discussion respecting the coming era, this subject should hold the first and most prominent place. But it is—as we intimated at the close of of our previous Article, and as all are aware—only one among a number of impoitant things which need to be accomplished. We trust it will not be deemed out of place, therefore, if we ask the attention of our readers, at the present time, to another point connected with this most interesting subject—the work to be done in the future.
The suggestion which we would now make is with reference to suitable provisions and arrangements for those "gradnated" students, who are pursuing a general and non-professional course of study. This class of persons have peculiar claims on the care and interest ot the governing powers of the institution, whatever may be the light in which we look at them. To those who think only of the collegiate or academical department, and believe the other schools to be of little or no importance, the young men, who, having just taken their first degree in arts, propose to continue their past studies, can hardly fail to be objects of regard. The existence of such a body of young men residing at the college is an honor to their instructors, as well as a continual inspiration to the under graduates who are following them. To those, on the other hand, who have larger views and who wish for a university, such graduates are of still greater consequence. They form one of the essential parts of the university, without which its life cannot, by any means, be complete. And even to those—if any such there can be—who have no care lor the character and form of our higher institutions of learning, but yet desire the progress of literature and scholarly refinement in the country, it will be a matter of no slight moment to give this class of students the greatest advantages, since on them must largely depend all hopes which go out toward this end. And yet it is not strange that they have been the latest class even of graduate students to be provided for. Our country has made but slow progress, in the past, toward the higher regions of literary refinement. Another and more fundamental work has been essential to its earlier life. The various learned professions have, indeed, long since become necessary, and, accordingly, provision has been made at our educational institutions for those who would enter them. But scholarship, in those other fields which are less immediately connected with the every-day work of life, has been left to the older nations. Its importance has not been appreciated as if it wera a thing of present need. There has. consequently, been little demand for it in the public mind, and little or no facilities for attaining it have been offered, even in those colleges which have begun to develop themselves outward toward the university idea. Within the last few years, however, there has been a great advance in this direction. We have begun to feel that our country must not be a place for the exercise of practical energy, merely, and that learning must not be limited to those alone who are lawyers or preachers, but that we must be a nation of the truest and noblest culture—that scholars must find their home here, and must be honored here, as truly as in Europe. The call for a higher education in this field has, therefore, begun to arise. Our universities must have a department not only separate from the collegiate school, but also from the professional schools, which shall draw into itself many of the best minds and cany them onward in their scholarly culture. It is one of the honors of Yale College, that its governors were among the earliest, if not the very earliest, in the country to hear tin's call. When it had come only from two or three, as it were, scattered here and there— when the great body even of our educated countrymen had no sense, as yet, of the need of any such thing—they organized a new branch of the institution for these higher liberal studies. The Department of Philosophy and the Arts was created in 1846. It opened the way for the pursuit of natural science in its various departments, thus meeting the demands of the times in this direction. But, at the same time, it offered more advanced instruction in philosophy, and philology, and history, and similar studies to the graduates in arts, and to others who might desire it.
Of what this Department, in what we may call its philosophical and philological branch, has already accomplished, very favorable testimony has been borne by the presiding officer of our sister university at Cambridge. Persons among our own graduates, who, in years past, have enjoyed the advantages it affords,—as one of the number, the writer of this Article—can bear, from their own experience, a witness which, if not as honorable, is, if posssible, even more heartfelt. But how little, we must all say, has it done as yet compared with what could be desired. How great is the work which opeus before it in the future. In organizing this Department of Philosophy and the Arts, the College authorities, as we intimated in our former Article, made the institution compUte in its parts. They gave to the growing University the Philosophical Faculty of the German Universities. But they were unable to do anything more than this—except in the Scientific section of it, where the wonderful developments and demands of the age have carried forward the growth very rapidly. The want of the necessary funds rendered it impossible to make this faculty altogether distinct from the academical, and the want of appreciation of high scholarship in these philosophical and philological studies made the number of students a very limited one. A quarter of a century has, therefore, passed away and we still see only the small beginnings—two or three young men entering this section of the Department from year to year, and no instruction except from professors who are overburdened with other work. All honor to the Trustees of the College, it becomes all its friends and all the friends of education to say, that they saw so early, and made so early provision for, the new needs of the country. All honor, also, to the instructors for what they have accomplished under circumstances no more favorable, than havo been, as yet, enjoyed. But no one can fail to see that the work of this part of the institution is, mainly, a work of the coming era. Much more must be done, in the future years, than has hitherto been done, or the guardians of the interests of the University hereafter will, in this regard, prove unequal in wisdom and energy to those who preceded them.
But the great question, as we enter on the new era, is, what, is to be its work. What then, in this department of which we are now speaking, is to be done, to promote its efficiency and to make it in reality what it already is in name? The first thing, as we conceive, is to provide further instruction. All that is now done is to offer assistance in their studies in the higher Philosophy, Mathematics and Philology, to such young men of proper previous attainments as may desire it. This assistance is to be given by Professors who have duties, which afford them abundant employment, in the academical or scientific schools. In the practical working of the matter, therefore, the necessary tendency of things is to make it as small as possible. To a large extent, at the present time, it does not amount to positive instruction, but is only a permission given to the student to call on and consult the professor, when occasion may require. Such a permission is a far smaller ad