to equal and deserved prominence. The profession of the teacher, though as old as the race, springing equally from its great needs, and evidently essential to its highest welfare, has never come into greater general demand and honor than during the last half century. The world is going to school as never before, and never had it abler and more devoted teachers. Especially is this true in the higher walks of literature, science, and art. Never were there more minds aglow with scholarly enthusiasm for ripe culture in all branches of knowledge, and never did there sit as instructors in our colleges and professional schools men more competent than now to give such culture. Our country swarms with literary institutions, in which it is difficult to say whether the professors are more distinguished for their learning, their devotion, or their poverty. With singular fidelity to duty, regardless of personal considerations, they give themselves to the great work of laying the foundations from which must rise all the other professions. But they stand in an honored line, made illustrious by such teachers as Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. And it is most auspicious for the future weal of our country, that the public is coming to some just appreciation of the magnitude of the service rendered by these self-denying toilers, from the least of them to the greatest, and is furnishing not a few of our literary institutions with resources, for the want of which they have been sadly crippled in their work.

In like manner it were not difficult to show that every honorable calling springs from some want of man, and adds to his happiness, but the limits of this paper permit a review only of those professions which require a liberal education, and of which the college is the nourishing mother. We find in them all essential unity. Like the main branches of a tree, they all grow out of a common trunk--the needs of man-and advance to flowering and fruitage, to satisfy these needs. In origin and aim they are one, each necessary to supplement the others in the great mission which they have undertaken for the perfection of society. We need alike legislators, lawyers, physicians, clergymen, journalists, teachers in all literature, science, and art, to develop both man and nature. As yet we know little of the

capacities and resources of either.

Each is, to a great extent,

a "terra incognita," which needs to be explored and developed. But when we look at the vast and beneficent discoveries which have been made in each within the last century, what may we not hope for in the near future from the incessant questionings of keen and disciplined minds in every department of knowledge? There are doubtless within every profession islands, if not continents, awaiting discovery by some skillful and adventurous Simpson, Morse, or Agassiz. And it becomes every educated man to do what he may to advance his own profession. "I hold," says Lord Bacon, "every man a debtor to his profession, from the which as men, of course, do seek to receive countenance and profit, so ought they of duty to endeavor themselves, by way of amends, to be a help and ornament thereunto."

In an ancient city on the Rhine has been rising, for more than half a thousand years, a magnificent cathedral. Century after century armies of artisans of every kind have swarmed upon it, have faithfully done their work, and passed away. More than a score of generations have come and gone since its foundations were laid, and still its towers ascend, and the work will go on until the topmost stone shall reach its place, and the Cathedral of Cologne, perfect in every part, shall stand forth, the complete embodiment of the grand conception in the minds of its architects. In like manner are we, in our various professions, at work on a grander edifice than ever rose out of marble and mortar. We are building a republic-a nation of men-after the ideal left us by its great founders; or rather, may we not reverently hope, somewhat after the conception of the Divine Architect. A century has gone by, and the noble men who toiled at its foundations have gone to their reward, and bequeathed their work to their successors. May they not prove unworthy of the high trust, but manfully carry forward the work, and whether they labor on wall or tower, column or architrave, remember that they are all engaged in one enterprise, and that the noblest committed to man. Incitements to a faithful performance of this work crowd upon us on every side. With a country the most remarkable on the face of the globe, in which are empires opening into Christian civilization, and carved into States so fast that we can scarcely remember

their names, with most heterogeneous populations, and conflicting beliefs and interests, what combination of motives, of hopes and fears, to urge to a manly discharge of duty in our various callings. It would seem that it

**** "might create a soul

Under the ribs of Death,"

to look at the grandeur of the work. Be it ours to do a manly part, each in his sphere, to build up such a nation as shall make the conception of the poet a reality.

"What constitutes a state?

Not high-raised battlement; or labored mound,
Thick wall, or moated gate;

Not cities proud, with spires and turrets crowned;

Not bays and broad-armed ports,

Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride,

Nor starred and spangled courts,

Where low-browed Baseness wafts perfume to pride.

No: Men, high-minded men,

With powers as far above dull brutes endued

In forest, brake or den,

As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude;

Men, who their duties know,

But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain,

Prevent the long-aimed blow,

And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain:
These constitute a state."

ARTICLE VIII.-COLLEGE ATHLETICS.

THE wide-spread and constantly increasing attention given, of late years, to physical exercises, the animated interest which they arouse in those who take an active part in them, and the enthusiasm with which people flock to view contests in the various branches of athletic sports as well as the prominence accorded by the public press to topics which treat of boat races, ball matches, and the like, have caused more than one sober minded person to wonder at this new phase in the development of our national character, and ask himself whether all this be a symptom of the natural and healthy growth of a love for outdoor sports and an admiration for health and strength indicative of a commendable desire to promote true physical culture, or merely a fresh turn taken by the fashion of the day tending to give undue encouragement to the acquisition of mere brute strength and clothe the victorious athlete with laudation as sentimental and revolting as the praises which the Roman ladies lavished on the sleek and brawny gladiators of the Empire.

If the question were one relating only to those who engage in these pursuits as a livelihood, the professional oarsman or ball player, the circus performer or the hired gymnast, it would be of no greater interest than the discussion of any other form of amusement in which the actors themselves engaged in their everyday work, and the most important side of the examination would turn on the probable effect such exhibitions would have upon the public which viewed them as spectators, and would involve the consideration of the question whether or not such enthusiasm be indicative of a depraved and degenerating popu

lar taste.

But now-a-days the interest, so far from being confined to those contests in which professional athletes alone engage, is stimulated to a far greater degree by the prospect of a struggle in which gentlemen amateurs are expected to take part. A few years ago, the announcement of a boat race between two well known crews of watermen would bring together an im

mense crowd to witness the event, while a few hundreds only were to be found on the banks of Lake Quinsigamond at the early races between Harvard and Yale. To-day the prospect of a contest between University crews will call together from all parts of the country, people who would never think of riding a mile to see the most exciting match ever rowed between professionals. How are we to regard this change? Is this tendency to encourage, by the incentive of praise and distinction, the efforts of the amateur athlete, one to be applauded or deplored?

At the Saratoga Boat Race, in the dash and hurry of the start which follows the pent up excitement and breathless suspense that precedes the firing of the first gun, during the rush and roar of the crowd as the boats come sweeping up to the finish, does the average spectator ever stop for a moment in the midst of his cheering to ask himself why he is splitting his throat? Or is he not rather more likely to become infected with the contagion and join in the "rahs" and the tossing of hats till brought back to his senses by the loss of his voice and the crown of his beaver? Does the athlete ever pause before beginning his long course of training and practice to weigh what he is giving up, and inquire whether the gain will compensate for the trouble and sacrifice? In the latter case we may be sure the question has a far better chance of obtaining due consideration. The oarsman, the foot-racer, or the ball player is as sailed by too many temptations to relaxation, unknown to those who look upon him as the lucky recipient of praise and congratulation, not to be forced at the very outset of his preparation, to know clearly what he has before him, and to balance. the disadvantages against the advantages likely to accrue. But to decide upon the after effect, the intellectual as well as physical results of athleticism, are questions, not for the country clergyman who has never seen a boat race or a foot-ball match, and probably never known a contestant in either event: nor for the closet theorist who, depending for his information upon the sensational newspaper reports of the effects of athletics on the body, and accounts of accidents purporting to have resulted from them, falls straightway to constructing an entirely à priori theory as to their probable influence upon the mind.