himself; to learn the secrets of those mysterious and hidden processes by which he felt and thought and acted. The intellectual center of gravity had passed from nature to man. From that day to this the goal of scholarship has been the understanding of both nature and man, the uniting of them in one scheme or plan of knowledge, and the explaining of them as the offspring of the omnipotent activity of a Creative Spirit, the Christian God. Slow and painful have been the steps toward the goal which to St. Augustine seemed so near at hand, but which has receded thru the intervening centuries as the problems grew more complex and as the processes of inquiry became so refined that whole worlds of new and unsuspected facts revealed themselves. Scholars divided into two camps. The one would have ultimate and complete explanations at any cost; the other, overcome by the greatness of the undertaking, held that no explanation in a large or general way was possible. The one camp bred sciolism; the other narrow and helpless specialization.

At this point the modern university problem took its rise; and for over four hundred years the university has been striving to adjust its organization so that it may most effectively bend its energies to the solution of the problem as it is. For this purpose the university's scholars have unconsciously divided themselves into three types or classes: those who investigate and break new ground; those who explain, apply, and make understandable the fruits of new investigation; and those philosophically minded teachers who relate the new to the old, and, without dogma or intolerance, point to the lessons taught by the developing human spirit from its first blind gropings toward the light on the uplands of Asia or by the shores of the Mediterranean, thru the insights of the world's great poets, artists, scientists, philosophers, statesmen, and priests, to its highly organized institutional and intellectual life of to-day. The purpose of scholarly activity requires for its accomplishment men of each of these three types. They are allies, not enemies; and happy the age, the people, or the university in which all three are well represented. It is for this reason that the university which does not strive to widen

the boundaries of human knowledge, to tell the story of the new in terms that those familiar with the old can understand, and to put before its students a philosophical interpretation of historic civilization, is, I think, falling short of the demands which both society and university ideals themselves may fairly make.

A group of distinguished scholars in separate and narrow fields can no more constitute a university than a bundle of admirably developed nerves, without a brain and spinal cord, can produce all the activities of the human organism. It may be said, I think, of the unrelated and unexplained specialist, as Matthew Arnold said of the Puritan, that he is in great danger because he imagines himself in possession of a rule telling him the unum necessarium, or one thing needful, and that he then remains satisfied with a very crude conception of what this rule really is, and what it tells him, and in this dangerous state of assurance and self-satisfaction proceeds to give full swing to a number of the instincts of his ordinary self. And these instincts, since he is but human, are toward a general view of the world from the very narrow and isolated spot on which he stands. Only the largest and bravest spirits can become great specialists in scholarship and resist this instinctive tendency to hasty and crude philosophizing. The true scholar is one who has been brought to see the full meaning of the words development and history. He must, in other words, be a free man as Aristotle understood the term. The free man is he who has a largeness of view which is unmistakable and which permits him to see the other side; a knowledge of the course of man's intellectual history and its meaning; a grasp of principles and a standard for judging them; the power and habit of reflection firmly established; a fine feeling for moral and intellectual distinctions; and the kindliness of spirit and nobility of purpose which are the support of genuine character. On this foundation highly specialized knowledge is scholarship; on a foundation of mere skill, deftness, or erudition it is not. The university is concerned with the promotion of the true scholarship. It asks it in its scholars who teach; it inculcates it in its scholars who learn. It believes that the

languages, the literatures, the art, the science, and the institutions of those historic peoples who have successively occupied the center of the stage on which the great human drama is being acted out, are full of significance for the world of to-day; and it asks that those students who come to it to be led into special fields of inquiry, of professional study, or of practical application, shall have come to know something of all this in an earlier period of general and liberal studies.

Mr. Emerson's oration before the oldest American society of scholars, made nearly sixty-five years ago, is the magnetic pole toward which all other discussions of scholarship must inevitably point. His superb apology for scholarship and for the scholar as Man Thinking, opened an era in our nation's intellectual life. The scholar, as Mr. Emerson drew him, is not oppressed by nature or averse from it, for he knows it as the opposite of his soul, answering to it part for part. He is not weighed down by books or by the views which Cicero, which Locke, which Bacon have given, for he knows that they were young men like himself when they wrote their books and gave their views. He is not a recluse or unfit for practical work, because he knows that every opportunity for action passed by is a loss of power. The scholar in short, as the university views him and aims to conserve and to produce him and his type, is a free man, thinking and acting in the light of the world's knowledge and guided by its highest ideals.

In this sense the university is the organ of scholarship, and in this sense it aims to be its embodiment. The place of scholarship has been long since won and is more widely recognized and acknowledged than ever before. The church and the state which first gave it independence are in close alliance with it and it with them. The three are uniting in the effort to produce a reverent, well-ordered, and thoughtful democratic civilization in which the eternal standards of righteousness and truth will increasingly prevail.

But a university is not for scholarship alone. In these modern days the university is not apart from the activities of the world, but in them and of them. It deals with real problems and it relates itself to life as it is. The university

is for both scholarship and service; and herein lies that ethical quality which makes the university a real person, bound by its very nature to the service of others. To fulfill its high calling the university must give and give freely to its students, to the world of learning and of scholarship, to the development of trade, commerce, and industry, to the community in which it has its home, and to the state and nation whose foster-child it is. A university's capacity for service is the rightful measure of its importunity. The university's service is to-day far greater, far more expensive, and in ways far more numerous than ever before. It has only lately learned to serve, and hence it has only lately learned the possibilities that lie open before it. Every legitimate demand for guidance, for leadership, for expert knowledge, for trained skill, for personal service, it is the bounden duty of the university to meet. It may not urge that it is too busy accumulating stores of learning and teaching students. Serve it must, as well as accumulate and teach, upon pain of loss of moral power and impairment of usefulness. At every call it must show that it is

"Strong for service still, and unimpaired."

The time-old troubles of town and gown are relics of an academic aloofness which was never desirable and which is no longer possible.

In order to prepare itself for efficient service the university must count in its ranks men competent to be the intellectual and spiritual leaders of the nation and competent to train others for leadership. Great personalities make great universities. And great personalities must be left free to grow and express themselves, each in his own way, if they are to reach a maximum of efficiency.

Spiritual life is subject neither to mathematical rule nor to chemical analysis. Rational freedom is the goal toward which the human spirit moves, slowly but irresistibly, as the solar system toward a point in the constellation Hercules; and rational freedom is the best method for its movement. Moreover, different subjects in the field of knowledge and its applications require different approach and different treatment.

It is the business of the university to foster each and all. It gives its powerful support to the learned professions, whose traditional number has of late been added to by architecture, engineering, and teaching, all of which are closely interwoven with the welfare of the community. It urges forward its investigators in every department, and rewards their achievements with the academic laurel. It studies the conditions under which school and college education may best be given, and it takes active part in advancing them. In particular, it guards the priceless treasure of that liberal learning which I have described as underlying all true scholarship, and gives to it full-hearted care and protection. These are all acts of service direct and powerful.

The university does still more. It lends its members for expert and helpful service to nation, State, and city. University men are rapidly mobilized for diplomatic service, for the negotiation of important treaties, for the administration of dependencies, for special and confidential service to the government, or some department of it, and, the task done, they return quietly to the ranks of teaching scholars, as the soldiers in the armies of the war between the States went back to civil life without delay or friction. These same university men are found foremost in the ranks of good citizenship everywhere and as laymen in the service of the church. They carry hither and yon their practical idealism, their discliplined minds, and their full information, and no human interest is without their helpful and supporting strength. It is in ways like these that the university has shown, a thousand times, that sound theory and correct practice are two sides of a shield. A theorist is one who sees, and the practical man must be in touch with theory if he is to see what it is that he does.

What the future development of the great universities is to be perhaps no one can foresee. But this much is certain: Every city which, because of its size or wealth or position, aims to be a center of enlightenment and a true world-capital must be the home of a great university. Here students and teachers will throng by the mere force of intellectual gravitation, and here service will abound from the mere host of opportunities.