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codify brains and regulate learning by statute. Legislative edicts may as well try to change the beaten course of the trade winds as to prescribe the text-books of a University. This function belongs to the instructors who are placed in charge of the institution, and if there was sufficient confidence to elect them, there should be sufficient trust to leave the selection of books to their honesty and discrimination.

But if text-books are drawn into the seething vortex of criticism, few cynies have the courage openly to attack a collegiate course for woman. The scheme of co-education has broadened man, and has developed the infinite possibilities of woman. The professors of the ancient view contend that the instruction of woman should stop at the high school, that the college is too esoteric for any but the finely woven intellect of man. These expressions generally come from some bigot who scans the horizon through a knothole and thinks that the universe is photographed on the retina of his eye. There is no man who has been taught at his mother's knee, or who has felt the surpassing love of woman, who does not crave that his companion-spiritually greater than he-should be his intellectual compeer. Woman's psychic touch has refined knowledge through the chemistry of the feelings, and by a sort of sixth sense in an age of reason has interpreted it free from a materialistic blight. Heaven grant that soaring upwards to tier upon tier of circling moral heights, she may take man's hand and lifting him from his dead-self, let him see some of the light which is reflected from her countenance.

For some time a steady effort has been made to undermine old foundations by throwing the classics aside and making them merely relics in an antique junk shop. In other words, it is sought to reduce the universities to the grade more or less of the industrial institutes. I hope the University will be spared this movement. All of history, all of philosophy, lies in the correlation of facts. One camel does not constitute a caravan, nor does a single branch of human knowledge girdle the earth. The utilitarian preaches for a practical lore, and would banish the chants of Virgil, and the songs that Homer sang. He would retain the microscope, the test-tube, and, in fine, the sciences which teach only of animal life and the substances which compose the visible world. To him life is only in living, and the languages of the past are no part of our inheritance. He would bring everything to the anvil of the blacksmith and hammer it into some crude instrument of husbandry. If that be so, then is architecture a mistake. Let us live in low, squat piles of masonry, and never a Gothic tower, an oriel window, or a shining spire!

However, in the establishment of a chair of oratory, everyone has cause to rejoice that the artistic side has not yet been lost to view. The colleges wisely are not content to confine themselves to the dry task of cultivating the perceptions alone, but seek to saturate the intellect with the brilliant dyes of the imagination, stimulated by the electric spark of wit and fancy. Thoroughness is essential to the orator. Without a full complement of resources he can not hope to succeed in a keen encounter of wits. The orator is obliged to use something more than the dull, gray pigments of fact—he should use every-day facts, but decked out in their holiday attire. The oxygen of life must be in his words, and the breath of sincerity must color his thoughts. These thoughts must pass through the prism of his fancy and come outside, real with the play of his finest imagery. Logic is not the less logic because its shafts are diamond tipped. The excellence of oratory consists in enriching and invigorating thought by the noblest imagination, in awaking the reason, not less than the feelings, and even in its decoration losing nothing of its original force. It is ornamented, but its force is no more sacrificed to its ornament than the solid steel of the Greek helmet to its plumage and sculptures. Without oratory the learning of the ages would come to us as dry and as brittle as the stubble of the wheat field. It was the passionate oratory of a deathless monk that burst the conventions of chancel and cathedral aisle. I regard with gratitude and praise the founding of a chair of oratory in the State University.

There are so many subjects to consider that I shall desist. If I have consumed your patience, please remember that when the alma mater is mentioned to an alumnus it is as inspiring as when the name of the prophet is pronounced in the hearing of a Mussulman. The University is self-centered in our affections. We peer into the promise of its future and see troops of scholars issuing from its walls. We see a University from which the drama is to receive new force, literature an Attic touch; from it the law shall revive as belles lettres; from it the statesman shall come with the genius of power to conciliate the dissensions of class; the poet, who will write the epic of a people's valor, the lyrics of the humble cottager, the wrongs of the lowly, and the compassion of the great; and, foremost of all, the patriot, who, in the hour of evil, like the silent sentinel of Pompeii, will stand guard at the gates of our liberties, maintaining conscience, holding aloft unsullied the highest traditions of the nation while honor applauds and justice cries Amen and Amen.


[Address of R. W. Hall, LL. B., '86, at Dallas, University Day, October 21, 1899.)

In the selection of a topic for discussion today, my heart was troubled—I reckon it was my heart. Realizing as I did, that this is the greatest day of all the days during this, the greatest fair of all the fairs, in this, the greatest State of all the States, of this the greatest nation of all the nations, the question of what to discuss was a serious problem. Like the Trinity river navigation question, it has been fully considered and hasn't panned out much.

Politics, that city of refuge for every soapless public speaker, has been tabooed, and this speaks volumes for the good judgment of those who prepared the day's programme, for it has not been twenty days since this community had a deluge of that element. We had poor people's political preaching from the mouths of multi-millionaires; which seems to me to be the climax in that direction. The unalloyed joy one feels in such a reunion as this interdicts the discussion of such a serious subject as the Presidency of the University or "Is Marriage a Failure”; while on the other hand the supreme emotions of the hour forbid any references to humorous questions, such as the Cleaner Dallas League or the Philippine War.

About sixty years ago, the Congress of the Republic passed an act providing for the location of the City of Austin, and ordering it to be laid off in lots and blocks, but reserving the most eligible building sites for a capitol, university, penitentiary and other public buildings. Subsequently the penitentiary was divided into two branches, one of which was located in Southern Texas, and the other in Eastern Texas. There was a two-fold purpose in this. One was to get the better class of criminals removed away from the corrupting, vitiating influence of that legislator, who carries his integrity, as the Chinaman wears his shirt, rather loosely and all on the outside. The other was to save as far as possible the expense of transporting the convicts across the State.

The Panhandle has learned a valuable lesson in economy from this: that a lariat prevents the taxation of court costs, and is cheaper than a railroad ticket for the man who kidnaps an innocent, unsuspecting yearling.

But the location of the University was never changed. This is fortunate, too, because the department clerk, as he stands sleepily in the morning sunlight allowing his befuddled mental equilibrium to wabble slowly back into place, may draw some inspiration from the shekinah that hovers over the intellectual holy of holies on University Hill. You don't know the value of such inspiration till you have ordered a copy of the land commissioner's report and have received a paper-back edition of Hoyle's Games instead. And, too, in locating the University near the capitol, it was foreseen by the fathers that the aspiring youths of Texas seeking admission into the mysteries of the rank of Hulla-balloo-Hooray-Hooray! would necessarily absorb from the high priesthood of that political temple some of the principles which constitute a man a tribune of the voz populi and teach him how to rap on the bar with his knuckles and call on the assembled voters to walk up and name it.

But that colossal pile of masonry at Austin is only a small part of our great University. We have also a Medical Department down at Galveston, and in order to get at it, Galveston proved that it was the greatest distributing office of smallpox germs and yellow fever bacilli in the State. So it was established there, because it is where the “pestilence walketh in darkness and destruction wasteth at noonday;" where the prospective medico can attend the clinic of the Pirate Isle Mosquito, as he performs the blood letting operation on the cuticle of the unprotected bather, and where he can observe the ravages of the gold standard epidemic as it eats its way into the vitals of the democracy of that congressional district.

There is another department at Bryan, where the boy who has studied the Angelus and aspires to be like the central figure in that marvelous picture, can go and become "the man with the hoe,” after

the pattern of Edwin Markham. There he can spend seven hours more or less out of the ten dressed in a military suit, strutting across the parade ground with his company like a row of goslings going to water, and then spend the other three hours learning how to distinguish a bumble bee from a June bug, without fondling him. He is also allowed to acquire the art of milking a broncho cow, so that he can teach it to his wife after he is married, because there is no such school for her yet. This is a valuable department, for it is a useful piece of information for a boy to understand that a green cucumber will kill him quicker than a dum dum bullet, even though the cucumber should lodge in his body and the bullet tear its way through his thoracic aorta.

But there is still another department of our State educational system, not constituted a part of the University by statute but closely articulated therewith, which I approach with uncovered head and reverential awe. That is the Sam Houston Normal School, which annually turns out its full quota of abnormal teachers, consisting mostly of good looking schoolmarms. Some one has beautifully said that the hand that rocks the cradle rules the nation, but that is not altogether true. The hand that shakes the inmate of the cradle after he doffs his baby bibs and dons his school jacket has something to do with the ruling business.

The strong sword arms and scythe chariots of the Persian army carved out of three continents an empire of magnificent proportions and fabulous wealth; the legions of the Tiber made their eternal city mistress of the world; and the martial spirit of France, is exemplified in the Old Guard, placed the tricolor as an emblem of power at the four corners of continental Europe. The warlike spirit of Joshua and the military daring of Caleb gave David a peaceful home in which to sing his songs and Solomon a gorgeous palace in which to salute his wives and caress the balance of his women folks.

But the boasted grandeur of our national life does not have its basis in the clash of arms and the booming of cannon; the unparalleled attainments of our national civilization were not acquired through the mad rush of the war horse and the twang of the crossbow, but all our perfection of government, all our transcendent civilization, all our commercial supremacy, all our national glory, when traced back to its source must end at the little public school

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