have animated your intentions. When we remember the class of your community for which this institution was particularly adapted-when we conceive, difficult as it is, surrounded as we now are with luxury and pleasure-when we attempt to picture to our imaginations what is the position of a youth, perhaps of very tender years, sent, as I am informed is very frequently the case, from a remote district, to form his fortunes in this great metropolis of labour and of science-when we think of that youth, tender in age, with no domestic hearth to soothe and stimulate, to counsel or control-when we picture him to ourselves after a day of indefatigable toil, left to his lonely evenings and his meagre lodgings, without a friend and without a counsellor, flying to dissipation from sheer want of distraction, and perhaps involved in vice before he is conscious of the fatal net that is surrounding him-what a contrast to his position does it offer when we picture him to ourselves with a feeling of self-confidence, which supports and sustains him after his day of toil, entering a great establishment where everything that can satisfy curiosity, that can form taste, that can elevate the soul of man, and lead to noble thoughts and honourable intentions, surrounds him! When we think of the convenience and the comfort, the kindness and the sympathy which, with a due decorum of manners, he is sure to command-this youth, who but a few hours before was a stranger-viewing an institution like the present only in this limited aspect, one must regard it as a great harbour of intellectual refuge and social propriety. You who had thus furnished the members of this institution with the journal which gave them the information and feelings of the hour, the library where they might correct the hasty opinions which perhaps that passing criticism is apt to engender-you knew there were many not deficient in ability, not deficient in aptness or feeling, to whom the very ceremony of reading is irksome, and who require to be appealed to by another means perhaps at first sight more captivating. Therefore you formed a theatre where lectures were given, where the experiments of philosophy, the investigations of literature, and the prolusions of art, were rendered agreeable to the audience by the charms of the human voice. You were not content with having raised an institution where the journal, the library, and the lecture-room were always prepared to enlighten or amuse-you remembered those wise words of Charles V., who said that "the man who knew two languages had two souls and two lives," and therefore you established classes by which the youth of this city might initiate themselves in a knowledge of the modern languages. Your plan was comprehensive, but it was not limited even by this fourth division. You knew well that in a free country, in a country that prides itself upon the science and practice of self-government, it is the duty at least, it is the interest-of all men to be able to express themselves in public with perspicuity, and, if possible, with elegance; therefore you established a discussion society, an institution in harmony with the political life and social manners of England. Having thus amply provided for the formation of the mind of your new and rising community, you still remembered (borrowing a happy idea from those races of antiquity to whom you owe your name) that any education that confined itself to sedentary pursuits was essentially imperfect, that the body as well as the mind should be cultivated-stage of its fortunes? It is not an agreeable you wisely, and in no common and ordinary spirit, established a gymnasium. These are the principal characteristics of your institution. There are others on which it would be wearisome to dwell; but I have placed before you six principal objects that you had desired to attain. Having taken this large and comprehensive view of the wants of your society, and meeting them with a spirit so liberal and large, you took the best and wisest step. You knew well the effect that architecture produces on the human mind: you determined, therefore, that your establishment should be embodied in an edifice that should please the imagination and satisfy the taste. You invited the most eminent of modern architects. Under the roof of a noble elevation you supplied the means for pursuing those studies that I have indicated; and this is a simple account of the Manchester Athenæum. It is difficult to conceive how a nobler purpose, if for a moment we dilate upon it, could If my description of what this institution offers to us, if my view of what it in some degree supplies, be just, what, I must inquire, is the reason that an institution, the prosperity of which now cannot be doubted, but so brief a time ago could have been apparently in the last task-I fear it may be considered by some an invidious one-if I, who am a stranger among you, should attempt to play the critic upon your conduct; but I feel confidence in your indulgence. I remember the kindness which has placed me in this honourable position, and therefore I shall venture to express to you the two reasons to which I think the dangerous state of our position must fairly be ascribed. I would say, in the first place, without imputing the slightest fault to the originators of this institution, wishing to be most distinctly understood as not only not imputing any fault to them, but most decidedly being of opinion that the fault does not lie at their door; still I cannot shut my eyes to the fact that, in the origin of this institution, by circumstances not foreseen, and which certainly were not intended, a party, a limited, and a sectarian feeling, in some degree pervaded its management. I confess, myself, that it appears to me that it would have been a marvel had it been otherwise. When we re- Now, that is one of the reasons why I believe a blight seemed to have fallen over our fortunes. I think at the same time that there is another cause that has, until recently, exercised an injurious effect upon the position of this institution. I think that a too limited view of its real character has been taken even by those who were inclined to view it in a spirit of extreme friendliness. It has been looked upon in the light of a luxury, and not of a necessity-as a means of enjoyment in the hour of prosperity from which we ought to be debarred when the adverse moment has arrived; so that when trade was prospering, when all was sunshine, a man might condescend to occupy his spare hours in something else than in a melancholy brooding over the state of the country-that, when returns were rapid and profits ready, one might deign to cultivate one's faculties, and become acquainted with what the mind of Europe was conceiving or executing; but these were delights to be reserved only for those chosen hours. Now that, I am bound frankly to say, is not the view which I take of this question-not the idea which I have formed of the real character of the Manchester Athenæum. I look upon it as part of that great educational movement which is the noble and ennobling characteristic of the age in which we live. Viewing it in that light, I cannot consent myself that it shall be supported by fits and starts. The impulse which has given us that movement in modern times is one that may be traced to an age that may now be considered remote, though the swell of the waters has but recently approached our own shores. Heretofore society was established necessarily on a very different principle to that which is now its basis. As civilisation has gradually progressed, it has equalised the physical qualities of man. Instead of the strong arm, it is the strong head that is now the moving principle of society. You have disenthroned Force, and placed on her high seat Intelligence; and the necessary consequence of this great revolution is, that it has become the duty and the delight equally of every citizen to cultivate his faculties. The prince of all philosophy has told you, in an immortal apophthegm so familiar to you all that it is written now in your halls and chambers, "Knowledge is power." If that memorable passage had been pursued by the student who first announced this discovery of that great man to society, he would have found an oracle not less striking, and in my mind certainly not less true; for Lord Bacon has not only said that "knowledge is power," but living one century after the discovery of the printing-press, he has also announced to the world that " knowledge is pleasure." Why, when the great body of mankind had become familiar with this great discovery-when they learned that a new source was opened to them of influence and enjoyment, is it wonderful that from that hour the heart of nations has palpitated with the desire of becoming acquainted with all that has happened, and with speculat ing on what may occur? It has indeed pro duced upon the popular intellect an influence almost as great as-I might say analogous to the great change which was produced upon the old commercial world by the discovery of the Americas. A new standard of value was introduced, and, after this, to be distinguished, man must be intellectual. Nor, indeed, am I sur recollection of that immortal stream, for I remember one of the most effective allusions he made to it in one of the most admirable speeches I ever listened to. But, notwithstanding that allusion, I would still appeal to the poetry of quality. I am sure that he could not have looked without emotion on that immortal scene. I still can remember that olive-crowned plain, that sunset crag, that citadel fane of ineffable beauty! That was a brilliant civilisation developed by a gifted race more than 2000 years ago; at a time when the ancestors of the manufacturers of Manchester, who now clothe the world, were themselves covered with skins, and tattooed like the red men of the wilderness. But influences more powerful even than the awful lapse of time separate and distinguish you from that race. They were the children of the sun; you live in a distant, a rugged, and northern clime. They bowed before different altars, they followed different customs, they were modified by different manners. Votaries of the beautiful, they sought in art the means of embodying their passionate conceptions; you have devoted your energies to utility; and by the means of a power almost unknown to antiquity, by its miraculous agencies, you have applied its creative force to every combination of human circumstances that could produce your objects. Yet, amid the toil and triumphs of your scientific industry, upon you there comes the undefinable, the irresistible yearning for intellectual refinement-you build an edifice consecrated to those beautiful emotions and to those civilising studies in which they excelled, and you impress upon its front a name taken from prised that this feeling has so powerfully influenced our race; for the idea that human happiness is dependent on the cultivation of the mind, and on the discovery of truth, is, next to the conviction of our immortality, the idea the most full of consolation to man; for the culti-his constitution, and I know it abounds in that vation of the mind has no limits, and truth is the only thing that is eternal. Indeed, when you consider what a man is who knows only what is passing under his own eyes, and what the condition of the same man must be who belongs to an institution like the one which has assembled us together to-night, is it-ought it to be a matter of surprise that from that moment to the present you have had a general feeling throughout the civilised world in favour of the diffusion of knowledge? A man who knows nothing but the history of the passing hour, who knows nothing of the history of the past, but that a certain person whose brain was as vacant as his own occupied the same house as himself, who, in a moment of despondency or of gloom, has no hope in the morrow, because he has read nothing that has taught him that the morrow has any changes-that man, compared with him who has read the most ordinary abridgment of history, or the most common philosophical speculation, is as distinct and different an animal as if he had fallen from some other planet, was influenced by a different organisation, working for a different end, and hoping for a different result. It is knowledge that equalises the social condition of man-that gives to all, however different their political position, passions which are in common, and enjoyments which are universal. Knowledge is like the mystic ladder in the patriarch's dream. Its base rests on the primeval earth-its crest is lost in the shadowy splendour of the empyrean; while the great authors who for traditionary ages have held the chain of science and philosophy, of poesy and erudition, are the angels ascending and descending the sacred scale, and maintaining, as it were, the communication between man and heaven. This feeling is so universal that there is no combination of society in any age in which it has not developed itself. It may, indeed, be partly restrained under despotic governments, under peculiar systems of retarded civilisation; but it is a consequence as incidental to the spirit and the genius of the Christian civilisation of Europe, as that the day should follow night, and the stars should shine according to their laws and order. Why, the very name of the institution that brings us together illustrates the fact I can recall, and I think I see more than one gentleman around me who equally can recall the hours in which we wandered amid "Fields that cool Пlyssus laves." I am sure, at least, that my hon. friend the member for Stockport [Mr Cobden] has a lively "Where on Egean shores a city rose, Built nobly, clear the air, and light the soil, What a beautiful tribute to immortal genius! What a sublime incentive to eternal fame! Then, when the feeling is so universal, when it is one which modern civilisation is nurturing and developing, who does not feel that it is not only the most benevolent, but the most politic thing you can do to avail yourselves of its influence, and to direct in every way the formation of that character upon which intellect must We cannot shut our eyes any longer to the now necessarily exercise an irresistible influence? immense revolution which has taken place. Knowledge is no longer a lonely eremite that offers an occasional and captivating hospitality to some wandering pilgrim; knowledge is now found in the market-place, a citizen and a leader of citizens. The spirit has touched the multitude; it has impregnated the mass: Totamque infusa per artus, Mens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet." ("This active mind, infused through all the space, Unites and mingles with the mighty mass.") -VIRG. Æn., vi. 726, 727, Dryden's Translation. I would say one word now to those for whom this institution is not entirely but principally formed. I would address myself to the youth on whom the hopes of all societies repose and depend. I doubt not that they feel conscious of the position which they occupy-a position which, under all circumstances, at all periods, and in every clime and country, is one replete with duty. The youth of a nation are the trustees of posterity; but the youth I address have duties peculiar to the position which they occupy. They are the rising generation of a society unprecedented in the history of the world; that is at once powerful and new. In other parts of the kingdom the remains of an ancient civilisation are prepared to guide, to cultivate, to influence the rising mind; but they are born in a miraculous creation of novel powers, and it is rather a providential instinct that has developed the necessary means of maintaining the order of your new civilisation, than the matured foresight of man. This is their inheritance. They will be called on to perform duties-great duties. I, for one, wish for their sakes and for the sake of our country, that they may be performed greatly. I give to them that counsel which I have ever given to youth, and which I believe to be the wisest and the best-I tell them to aspire. I believe that the man who does not look up will look down; and that the spirit that does not dare to soar is destined perhaps to grovel. Every individual is entitled to aspire to that position which he believes his faculties qualify him to occupy. I know there are some who look with what I believe to be a short-sighted timidity and false prudence upon such views. They are apt to tell us "Beware of filling the youthful mind with an impetuous tumult of turbulent fancies; teach him, rather, to be content with his position -do not induce him to fancy that he is that which he is not, or to aspire to that which he cannot achieve." In my mind, these are superficial delusions. He who enters the world finds his level. It is the solitary being, the isolated individual alone in his solitude, who may be apt to miscalculate his powers, and misunderstand his character. But action teaches him the truth, even if it be a stern one. Association offers him the best criticism in the world, and I will venture to say that if he belong to the Athenæum, though when he enters it he may think himself a genius, if nature has not given him a creative and passionate soul, before a week has elapsed he will become a very soberminded individual. I wish to damp no youthful ardour. I can conceive what opportunities such an institution as this would have afforded to the suggestive mind of a youthful Arkwright. I can conceive what a nursing-mother such an institu tion must have been to the brooding genius of your illustrious and venerated Dalton. It is the asylum of the self-formed; it is the counsellor of those who want counsel, but it is not a guide that will mislead, and it is the last place that will fill the mind of man with false ideas and false conceptions. He reads a newspaper, and his conceit oozes out after reading a leading article. He refers to the library, and the calm wisdom of centuries and sages moderates the rash impulse of juvenescence. He finds new truths in the lecture-room, and he goes home with a conviction that he is not so learned as he imagined. In the discussion of a great question with his equals in station, perhaps he finds he has his superiors in intellect. These are the means by which the mind of man is brought to a healthy state, by which that self-knowledge that always has been lauded by sages may be most securely attained. It is a rule of universal virtue, and from the senate to the countinghouse will be found of universal application. Then, to the youth of Manchester, representing the civic youth of this great county and this great district, I now appeal. Let it never be said again that the fortunes of this institution were in danger. Let them take advantage of this hour of prosperity calmly to examine and deeply to comprehend the character of that institution in which their best interests are involved, and which for them may afford a relaxation which brings no pang, and yields information which may bear them to fortune. It is to them I appeal with confidence, because I feel I am pleading their cause-with confidence, because in them I repose my hopes. When nations fall, it is because a degenerate race intervenes between the class that created and the class that is doomed. Let them then remember what has been done for them. The leaders of their community have not been remiss in regard to their interests. Let them remember, that when the inheritance devolves upon them, they are not only to enjoy but to improve. They will some day succeed to the high places of this great community; let them recollect those who lighted the way for them; and when they have wealth, when they have authority, when they have power, let it not be said that they were deficient in public virtue and public spirit. When the torch is delivered to them, let them also light the path of human progress to educated man. SPEECH TO THE GLASGOW CONSERVATIVE ASSOCIATION.* MR CHAIRMAN AND GENTLEMEN,-I believe I may describe the position of this country as one of very great prosperity. There is no doubt that during the last three years prosperity has Delivered November 22, 1873. BENJAMIN DISRAELI. availed themselves of this signal opportunity to been generally acknowledged. There are some who suppose that it may have received a check at the time when I paid my visit to Glasgow. If it has received a check it will increase, I hope, our circumspection, but I must express my own opinion that no substantial diminution in the sources of the prosperity so apparent during the last three years has occurred. I think we may fairly say the state of this country is one of great prosperity, and although I believe and know that it is a prosperity for which we are not indebted either to Whigs or Tories, although I know that it has been occasioned in a considerable degree, under Providence, by fortuitous though felicitous circumstances, I am perfectly ready, speaking to-day, as I hope to speak, in the fairest terms on public affairs, which I believe to be quite consistent with the position of the leader of a party-I am ready to give to her Majesty's Government credit for the With prosperity we feel and acknowledge. regard to her Majesty's ministers themselves, I will be equally candid, equally fair-I will take They have lost them at their own estimate. few opportunities of informing the country that they are men distinguished for commanding talent, admirable eloquence, and transcendent I dispute none of administrative abilities. these propositions any more than I do the prosperity of the country. They also tell us that the country being so prosperous, and they having all these personal advantages, they have taken the opportunity during the last few years of passing measures of immense magnitude, only equalled by the benefit they have conferred upon the people. Now, gentlemen, I will not question their own estimate of their ability, or even for a moment their own description of their achievements: but I ask this question-What is the reason, when the country is so prosperous, when its affairs are administered by so gifted a Government, and when they have succeeded-not in a hole or corner, but on the most memorduring five years in passing measures of such a vast character and beneficence-what is the reason that her Majesty's ministers are going about regretting that they are so unpopular? Now, gentlemen, I beg you to observe that I did not say her Majesty's ministers are unpopular. I stated their own case and their own position; I say that under the circumstances I have put fairly before you, it is a remarkable circumstance, and the question must be inquired into -why persons in the position of her Majesty's Government should on every occasion deplore the unpopularity they have incurred. Now, my opinion, gentlemen, is that that is not a question of mere curiosity-it is one that, as I think I shall show you, concerns the honour and the interests of the country. If the country is so prosperous-if her Majesty's ministers are so gifted-if they have had such an ample opportunity of showing the talents which they possess -if they have done all this good-if they have able night of the session, when there were 600 members of the House of Commons present, when on the debate that took place avowedly the fate of the ministry depended. It was at midnight that I rose to speak, and made the statement almost similar in expression, though perhaps stronger and more lengthened than the one which has become the cause of recent controversy. The Prime Minister followed me in that debate. The House of Commons knew what was depending upon the verdict about to be taken, and with all that knowledge they came Gentlemen, it to a division, and by a majority terminated the existence of the Government. surprises me, then, that, having made that statement six months after, with the advantage of six months' more experience and observation, it should have so much offended her Majesty's The ministers sighed, and their Government. newspapers screamed. The question I have to ask, and in this your interests are vitally con |